#I’m going to start putting all his crimes on this post

[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

[spenceobsessed]

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.

MDNI 18+

“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.

the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.

you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.

“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.

“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.

“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.

“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.

“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.

emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.

“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.

“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.

“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.

“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.

“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”

spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.”

you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.

jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.

your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.

“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.

“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.

that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.

you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.

“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.

reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.

“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.

“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.

“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.

you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.

you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”

he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.

“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.

the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.

“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”

“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.

you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”

the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.

you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.

“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.

as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.

“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.

you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.

“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.

“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.

he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.

you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.

"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.

"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.

"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there

spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.

"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.

as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.

"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"i need you to kiss me, spencer."

the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.

you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.

spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.

spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.

you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.

"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.

“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.

“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.

“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.

“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.

as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.

he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.

“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”

you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.

“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.

“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.

he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.

a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.

he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”

he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.

hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.

unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.

he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.

you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.

he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.

you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.

“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.

you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.

“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.

“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.

“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.

you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.

“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.

“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.

however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.

"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.

after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.

"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.

"yes, please."

part 2 :)

[ramp-it-up]

Try a Little Tenderness

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.7 K

Summary: Steve can’t win you with presents. He’s got to try a little tenderness.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Pining, flirting, organized crime, implied ice skating, teasing, former jerky boyfiend, inexperienced reader, nipple play, oral (both receiving) p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, crying during sex, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Good morning, Steve!”

You were stocking onions, but you looked up and smiled as the tall blond entered the store, setting off the bell. He was well built and handsome and wearing a fine wool coat with a red scarf. It was a cool December, but New York had not yet had its first big snowfall.

“Mornin’, Ambrosia,” came his gruff response. 

You kind of liked his early morning voice. And the nickname. The first time he came in, he’d picked up an apple, already biting into it but also already paying. He handed you a twenty and said, “Mmmmm, Name?”, pointing to you with the apple. Flustered, you replied with the name of the apple instead of your name and the rest was history. 

This morning, Steve smiled at you and his blue eyes were sparkling. They always sparkled when he looked at you. He seemed very sweet.

“The usual.”

You laughed and went behind the counter to wash your hands.

“Of course, already had the fixin’s set up for you.”

You started the water for the espresso and got out the fresh everything bagels you’d put aside for him. Steve was one of your best customers, coming in every morning, and several evenings. He’d been coming in for about four months now.

Steve settled at the counter and watched you prepare his food. He looked at his watch: 7:42 am. He knew you'd been at work almost two hours now and that you were working very hard. One of your braids had come undone from your bun, and he wanted to put it back, but he didn’t touch you. You wore no makeup, yet your skin always glowed, and when you looked up at him, his heart nearly stopped. 

You were naturally beautiful. And your apron did not hide your curves. Or the fact that you were wearing the same pants that you’d worn three days ago. Steve figured that you didn’t have many clothes. He had the urge to take you shopping on Madison Avenue and let you go crazy. But somehow he knew you would never blow a load of cash on clothing. And that’s part of why he was so far gone on you.

He watched you battle your espresso machine with bemusement.

“Why haven’t you set up your new machine yet?”

You stopped and put your hands on your hips, looking so cute that Steve restrained himself from jumping over the counter.

“Is that from you?” You shook your head. “I suspected it.” 

Steve had unexpectedly given you many gifts, the espresso machine, a cash register. He’d even tried to have a new walk in cooler installed. You refused and sent back everything he’d sent. It wasn’t right. He barely knew you. 

You wondered what he did for a living, always dressed in the finest and able to afford multiple thousand dollar gifts. You figured that he was one of those Angel investors. Well, he wasn’t very good at being anonymous.

You watched as Steve gave you a lopsided grin, then leaned over the counter toward him. 

“Listen. Steve. Mr. Rogers.” 

You looked from his eyes, to his perfect lips, to his golden St. Christopher’s medal. He smelled so damn good. You bit your lip and Steve smiled, warmed by your proximity. This was his chance.

“Yeah, Ambrosia?”

“I’m not taking your gifts.”

You straightened up abruptly, handed him his drinks and finished his order. You gave him two folded newspapers.

“One Daily News for your friend and one News Day for you.” 

“Have you thought about it yet?”

You raised your eyebrow at him.

“About what?”

You thought he was finally going to ask you on a date. You knew the main reason he came in was to check you out. But you weren’t about to be bought.

“About the possibility of getting The Times in here? Alright, the Sunday Times at least.”

“Sorry Steve, it doesn’t sell. If it doesn’t sell, I don’t order. Can’t afford a non starter. But I do subscribe to the Sunday Times myself for the crossword. You can borrow mine any time.”

You winked at him. Something about Steve brought out your inner flirt.

Steve wanted to say something about sharing the Sunday Times in bed, but he thought better of it. Any other girl, and he would have been able to spit all kinds of game. But with you, he was tongue tied.

Steve sipped his coffee and shook his head as you gave him his bag.

“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

You waved at him as he stood up.

“Have a great day!”

Steve chuckled at your dismissal as he walked out of the door. Bucky was waiting by the car. Steve handed him his cup and sandwich. 

“Send Sam to pick up the espresso machine.”

“Still a tough nut, eh?”

“Yeah. She’s still refusing gifts…”

Steve got in the passenger seat while Bucky sat behind the wheel.

“Instead of giving her all of this expensive shit, why don’t you just be nice to her?Ask her out ice skating or something.”

Steve scoffed. He didn’t know how to ask a girl out anymore. He felt like that scrawny kid running around with Bucky back in the day. Now, women were always clawing at each other to get to him. And they always wanted something. 

Steve didn’t respond to Bucky, just asked about his calendar.

“What’s on the agenda for today, Buck?”

“We gotta meet with the truckers today. They don’t want to bend to our terms.” Steve put on his sunglasses. 

“We know what to do to make ‘em bend, don't we Buck?”

“Sure do, buddy.” 

You were in your walk up apartment above the store halfway listening to the 10 o’clock news. They were doing a story about an explosion at the Eatern Tri-State Trucking hub in Bay Ridge as you put your body oil on after your shower. The reporter indicated that authorities thought that the Valkyrie crime organization was behind it. You were zoning out looking forward to the next day.

You were glad that Janie and Nate would be back at work tomorrow. Nate had just taken a week off, and Janie had recovered from the flu.  You were going to take the next afternoon off. You could have taken the entire day, but you wanted to open up for some reason.

Running an organic bodega in Brooklyn was a tough job, but the business was growing, but it was even tougher when your help was not there. You deserved a bit of a break.

The next morning, you were humming an Otis Redding song when Steve came in. You looked over your shoulder and caught him looking at your ass.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers.”

“Mornin’ Ambrosia.”

“The usual?”

Steve wanted to say no, I want to ask you to marry me, but that might be a little too forward.

“Yeah.”

He sat down at the counter and noticed that you had on something brand new. When you turned around, he gestured to your outfit.

“What’s the occasion?”

You looked down and then grinned. 

“This outfit is my Christmas present to myself. I’m taking the afternoon off and I’m going into the city to go to the Central Public Library.”

Steve tried to respect your glee. But he had to do it.

“How thrilling.”

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch, “ you quipped.

Steve laughed at you. He thought about what Bucky said the day before.

“Grinch hunh. Well, would a Grinch offer to take you ice skating instead?”

You turned around and leaned on the counter. Steve leaned toward you.

“I don’t know. Are you offering, Mr. Grinch?”

You loved teasing him. Steve groaned.

“C’mon. I’m trying here. Ambrosia. Do you want to go ice skating with me in the city this afternoon? And to dinner afterward.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Steve was very close to you now, staring at your lips.

“Yes.”

You stood up and put your hands on your hips.

“It’s about time. Sure!”

Steve laughed at how easy it was. You shoved his order into his hands.

“Pick me up at 1.”

Steve was grinning like an idiot out at the car, and didn't know how he got there.

“So you finally asked her out, hunh?”

Steve snapped out of it as he got in the passenger seat.

“Move the talks up to 10. I’m taking the afternoon off.”

“Rumlow is stalling. I can handle it this evening.”

“You sure?”

Bucky looked at his best friend.

“Sure as shootin’.”

You and Steve had a great afternoon, and Steve thought that ice skating was genius. He had to thank Bucky. You had to hold hands to stay steady, and when he pulled you in close, you didn’t pull back so you could stay warm. He didn’t know that you were thinking the same things.

Steve got to treat you to Via Carota and you two walked right in. The food was great, the wine was amazing, and you even stole a kiss in your corner booth. The night was perfect.

He drove you back to your place and you sat in the car for a minute. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and you were the one to make the first move with the kiss. You looked at him quizzicaly.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?”

“Yes, Ambrosia, anything.”

“After today, this afternoon and tonight. Do you still like me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course. Why do you ask?”

You looked down. 

“Well, you’ve been such a gentleman. I see how you look at me, all hungry all the time. And the gifts. I don’t know. I just thought you’d be. You know. More…”

“Aggressive?” Steve responded.

“Well. yeah. I just thought.”

You looked back up and saw that Steve’s eyes had darkened.

“I am not a gentle man in my everyday life, Ambrosia. And I know that I can come on strong. But you make me want to be tender with you. I want to cherish you.”

“Oh.”

And Steve pulled you in for a sweet, but sexy kiss.

“So, yes, I still like you. And I have very aggressive thoughts about you. Want to ruin you in fact. But I want to do it carefully. Make you feel it. And make you glad you did.”

“Oh. No one has ever…damn, Steve.”

He recognized that you had been hurt.

“Here’s an aggressive question. What kind of an asshole would make you feel that way about yourself? His name is all I need.”

You laughed.

“Do you want to come up for the answer?” You cocked your head at him as he chuckled and nodded.

“Yes.”

When you got up to your place, you were settled with a glass of wine on your couch.

“I’m not going to give you his name, but I will tell you that we were together for a few months, and we only did it a few times. He’s the only one I’ve ever been with.”

The way you looked as him made Steve’s heart soft, but other things hard.

“It…It didn’t feel good. He said I was frigid and too small. I… I went to the doctor and everything. She said I was fine physically. So I figured it must have been in my mind and I haven’t been able to get out of my head after that. He broke it off and then I just decided to focus on work.”

You peered at Steve to see his reaction.

Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, then cooled.

“That joker is a fucking idiot.” 

His eyes traced your body.

“He didn’t know what to do with all this?”

Steve reached for you and kissed you, this time with undeniable passion. You broke away and stood up, offering him your hand.

“Show me, Steve.”

He stood up and followed you to your bedroom.

You stood at the foot of the bed and reached up to kiss Steve, and he picked you up and sat down, sitting you down with both of your legs over his. You made out like this, Steve’s hands still in neutral places until you whined and scooted closer to him.

Then, he went under your sweater, finding your nipple in your bra and brushing it with his thumb. He was exhibiting intense will power, but he couldn’t hold it all back as you responded to his passionate kisses.

Steve lifted your sweater off and your tank top, which was underneath, with it. Your bra contained your breasts, but your nipples were erect and straining against the material. He brought your body towards his for a kiss, his thick fingers pressing and playing with your sensitive buttons. He had you squirming on his lap as he reached around and expertly unfastened your bra.

He looked down at you and then back up, eyes hungry. You’d been yearning for that look.

“I’m gonna cherish this moment, get you ready for me, Baby. You’re gonna feel so good.”

He was weighing and kneading your breast and tenderly flicking your nipple, then he leaned down and kissed you, moving down your neck and collarbone, descending your chest and kissing all around your areolas, teasing your stiff nipples.

He had you moaning and writhing, wanting some friction for your cunt.

“Patience, Baby. You’re gonna get everything you deserve. Including this.”

Steve moved your hand to the hard member in his pants, which you tried to grip in vain through his slacks. You whimpered in frustration.

“I know. I know. I want to do so many things with you.” 

Steve’s fingers were in your leggings, through our panties and tracing your wet pussy lips gently as he finally started sucking your nipples. You pulled his hair wantonly as he teased you.

“Mmmmm. Who’s got you all wet, Ambrosia?” he asked, as he pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth.

“Y-you, Steve… unhhhhh.”

The sight of him relishing your taste made you even wetter. And he found out, because his hand was right back down your pants. 

His lips were at your ear and he was breathing hard.

“Can I…”

His thick finger parted your lips and the rough pads of two fingers slid over your clit into your wetness. You arched your back in anticipation.

“...Can I eat you out, my sweet Ambrosia?”

His voice and the request sent you on a tailspin. You nodded vigorously as Steve pulled his hand out to your whine of desperation at the loss of contact.

You quickly stood up as Steve captured your hips to stand still in front of him. His eyes raked up and down your form as he took hold of the waistband of your pants, and slowly pulled them and your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them and Steve’s hands ran back up your form as you looked down at him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs as he pulled you near him.

Steve put one knee over his shoulder and stared at your most intimate part. 

“She’s a sweet little flower. So pretty and tight.”

His fingers were parting your folds so he could see even more.

“But she will be ready for my thick cock, I know she will, Ambrosia.”

He pulled you forward and held you up as he licked through you, almost causing a near stroke as far as you could tell. 

“Mmmmmm,” Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head.  “You are so sweet. I could eat you all night.”

You almost cried as he dove back in, grabbing his hair for purchase. He grabbed your bottom and stood to place you on the bed. He kneeled on the floor and held you down and open with his huge hands.

Steve started his feast, gently licking at first, then made you build to a crescendo as he started tongue fucking you. He made sure to stimulate your nipples, and when he felt your hard little nub vibrate, he sucked your clit hard as you came.

“Was that good?”

“Oh my stars, that was good.”

You both laughed.

“You’re so fucking cute, Ambrosia, but there’s levels to this.”

You sat up and watched as  he took off his shirt. You were sure that your eyes were sparkling now.

“It’s just going to get better and better.”

He was just clad in his black boxer briefs, a huge bulge leading the charge. He reached in and you were certain that he was going to pull out an entire pack of socks, but instead, he showed you the largest, thickest dick you’d ever seen. Your eyes were like saucers. You were a little afraid, but your legs fell open out of reflex. 

“See what you do to me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching out and touching it tentatively.

“I’ve never seen one that big.”

You looked up at him and his heart melted simultaneously as his cock jumped. Your trembling fingers around him made him almost bathe your hand in his spend.

“Oh, Baby.. So sweet.”

“You are too, Steve. I want to taste you.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and Steve groaned, trembling with the effort to hold back.

“Christ… I’m…I…. Whatever you want, Baby.”

You stared at his cock for what seemed like forever. Then, you tentatively reached out and kitten licked his tip, causing him to groan as he palmed the back of your head.

“You’re killing me here, Ambrosia.”

“Hmmm.” You smiled. “Lay down for me, Steve.”

He did as he was told and put his arm behind his head to watch you. The way his muscles bulged inspired you anew. He reached down and roamed his fingers over your body as you hovered over him. You stroked him a couple of times and then played with his balls, Steve putty in your hands.

“B-babyyyy.”

You smiled in triumph that you had him whining as you spread your lips over the thick mushroom cap and sucked it into your mouth vigorously, causing him to moan and buck his hips up. You took the cue and drew him into your mouth, making him hit the back of your throat and gag.

“Holyyyyyy sssssshit. Stop. StopStopStopStop.”

Steve pulled you off his dick, which made you release him with a plop. He sat up and stared at you, disbelief in his eyes. 

“Did I do it wrong?”

“Did you do it wrong. Fuck, you almost made me…. C’mere.”

You giggled as you ended up with your back on the bed again, Steve eating you out, this time one finger inside you as you came. You were in shambles as he looked up at you and inserted another finger inside as his opposite thumb stroked your still-quivering clit.

“Gotta get you up to three. Hold on.”

You did, and when he crooked his fingers this time, you let out a wail that caused dogs to bark down the street.

After your fourth orgasm, Steve looked up, smiling ear to ear.

“Still want this dick?”

You scowled at him.

“If you don’t…”

He laughed as he kneeled between your legs, stroking the magnificent beast. You opened your legs even wider and stared down at it.

“No. look at me, look at me. You’re ready. I got you Baby.”

Steve supported himself with one arm as he got nearer to you and started swiping his head between your folds. You keened as he entered you.

“Ow. Steveeeee.”

Your face looked so adorable as you struggled to take him.

“Holy shit, you’re, fuck you’re so….”

Steve kissed you through your moan of shock and pleasure as he slid all the way home. You gripped his bicep, your fingernails leaving marks. Steve pecked your lips as you pounded together, waiting for you to get used to him.

“You ok? You good?”

Steve checked to make sure you were okay. You nodded at him with tears in your eyes.

“I- I- think it feels good. You’re so big, Steveee. But.. but I like it….”

You started moving, a little at first, and then more wantonly. Steve looked down to where you were impaled upon his dick.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. Just so.. Fucking… tiny…. But made for me…Shit.”

You felt Steve’s cock jumping inside you when he said those words, and you clasped your hands behind his back and uttered, “More!”

And that’s when you began to get fucked. Tenderly yet filthily. It was the best Steve had ever had, trying to be gentle and knowing that he wanted to put the bed under the ground. It was such a turn on. The ragged moans that you gave him with each stroke was a gift from god, and he started cumming before he could think.

“Shit! I didn’t use a condom…Fuck. But why does that just motivate me to keep going?” 

Steve laughed into your ear as he kept stroking for dear life. He was usually so careful, knowing that most women wanted his kid. But with you he didn’t care. You wrapped your legs around him, taking the pounding he was giving you now.

“Hmmmmmm. You want me to put a baby inside you? Pump you so full of cum that you get all round and full with my seed?”

“Hnnnnghhh. Steve… I…”

“Tell me. Do you want it? You want me to get you pregnant?”

“Ohhhh shitttttttt! Steeeveeeeee!”

You detonated around him and Steve cursed, finally pulling out and jacking hard onto your stomach as three fingers on the other hand continued to fuck you through your orgasm. His pearly spend looked beautiful on your skin.

“So gorgeous. There’s time for that yet, but we gotta get you to a doctor, because I don’t want to do this too many more times. And fucking you with condoms is no longer an option.”

You were fucked out, absentmindedly playing in his cum, causing him to spurt one last rope onto your fingers. When you brought them to your mouth was when he shivered. He collapsed beside you.

“I can’t even explain how good that was.”

You just smiled at him, lips shiny with gloss that he made.

“You are an angel. A Christmas angel.”

Steve sighed as you smiled at him. He got up and went to your bathroom to clean up and get a warm towel.

“I’m hungry.”

“Anything you want, Babe. I’ll get it for you.”

You grabbed the remote and  turned on the tv, catching the tail end of the news.

“Shootout in DUMBO tonight between the Rumlow and Valkyrie crime organizations. Several high-ranking officers dead or injured, including Brock Rumlow and James Bucky Barnes. More news when we have it.”

“Steve? Bucky? What’s going on? Valkyrie?”

Steve was up and grabbing for his clothes, an inscrutable look on his face.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I gotta go.” 

He gave you a quick kiss. 

“Don’t leave. Sam will come back with some food for you and he will stay with you. Don’t open the store tomorrow.”

“But Steve!”

“No buts! I will call.”

And then Steve disappeared into the night, leaving you with so many questions.

Knock that reblog button off the block fa me. 😉

Read part two, All I Want.

[eyeballpussy]

Please - Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Cw: switch Miguel, switch y/n, begging, rough sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, hair pulling, overstimulation, pussy drunk! Miguel, cock drunk! Y/n, name calling (baby, Amor, etc), size difference/kink, man handling.

(First post wow. Idk why i didn’t write smut for him sooner.

Pls request shit, I have nothing to do in the summer.)

_______________________________________________

It had been about a week since you had figured out that Miguel O’Hara, your boyfriend, was Spider-Man. You were so angry, he’d leave you in the middle of the night to go fight crime and wouldn’t be back until 6am in the morning.

He’d come home bruised and limping and never told you why. He had you worried day and night he was getting himself into trouble. You hadn’t talked to him since you found out. You could see the desperation in his eyes any time he’d try and talk to you but was turned down immediately.

You were In the kitchen, cooking dinner when you heard the door open. Miguel didn’t get off work until 9:00pm so you wondered who it was. You walked to the door expecting an intruder, but low and behold, it was your boyfriend.

You turned back around and walked to the kitchen. “Amor, please! Talk to me!” He cried. “Why would I?” You asked him. “You waited till now to tell me that you of all people are Spider-Man! You left me in the middle of the night with no explanation. I was so fucking worried about you when you came home with bruises all over you!”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to leave!” He was behind you at this point. He put his bulky arms around your waist and lowered his head to you neck. “Is there any way I can make it up to you? I’ll do anything.” He whispered into your neck.

You could feel yourself growing hot at the contact, along with not talking, you two also haven’t had sex in a week. It was brutal. “What do you think you can do for me?” You asked him, still stirring the pot of soup your making.

He was silent for a minute until he finally said something, “please let me eat you out, please” he whined in your ear. “I’ll do anything, please let me do this” your cunt felt hot, so hot.

You turned off the heat for the soup and turned to look at him. You have him a look of ‘follow me’ and walked to the bedroom. He followed happily behind you.

You walked into the room and took your shorts off and crawled onto the bed. You leaned your back on the stacked pillows and put your knees in the air, spreading your legs for Miguel’s view.

Miguel looked at you like a man starved, he looked like he was ready to pounce onto you. Instead, he crawled to in between your legs and looked at you. “Go ahead” you told him.

Without a second to waste, you panties were ripped off and he was attacking your clit. His tongue was so skilled. The stimulation sent bolts of pleasure through your entire body.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t notice his hand creeping up to your cunt. Before you knew it, he had two fingers up your cunt while sucking on your clit.

Your hands flew to his hair, gripping it like you were going to rip it out. Miguel let out a moan directly onto your clit, vibrating it for a second. You grabbed his hair harder and he moaned again.

He added another finger into you, finger fucking your with three now. You could feel yourself growing close. Your were getting so loud, the neighbors definitely hated you by now.

“Miguel I’m gonna-” you were cut off by him going faster, sucking and licking your clit harder. Your were screaming. Your orgasm hit you like a truck. You expected him to stop but he kept his hard and fast pace.

He was overstimulating you to the point your screaming his name and mindless babble. Your entire sense shrunk down to his tongue and fingers. You could feel your second orgasm building.

“Fuck Miguel!” You moaned out. You started grinding your pussy onto his face, trying to make your orgasm come quicker. Your were so close to cumming, you and Miguel knew it. He kept at it until you came a second. This one better than the last.

Your thighs wrapped around his head as he walked you through your orgasm. Once your climax finished, he pushed your thighs off you his head and sat up on his knees. “Miguel..” he looked at you, “please Miguel, fuck me” you told him.

“How badly do you want me too?” He asked. “Please Miguel, I need you to fuck my pussy into mush. Fuck me so hard I don’t even know my own name. Destroy my fucking legs, please.” You looked down at his sick and saw him so hard his was almost busting through his pants.

You ran your hand over his clothed cock and he whined at the contact. “D-don’t do that, y/n.” He told you. “Why not?” You asked him, a cocky tone in your voice.

Without saying a word, he flipped you onto your stomach, putting a pillow underneath your hips, leaving your bare ass in the air. He pressed his bulge onto you Ass and moaned.

“Because I can’t hold back” you heard him stand up and take off his clothes. The only thing you had on currently was one of his baggy t-shirts with not bra underneath.

He got back on the bed and lined himself up with your pussy. In an instant, he shoved his cock inside you with no warning. You screamed out, “Miguel! Fuck!”

He began pounding into you at a fast pace, fucking you into the bed. He put his hands by your head. You were still sensitive from your first two highs your could barely think.

You were grabbing the pillow in front of you for dear life. Your knuckles turning white. He was going so fast your couldn’t think. The only thing your could tell, was that he was holding back.

“How’s that for you?” He asked. “Don’t….” You barely get words out. “Don’t restrain yourself….” You whined out. He was quiet for a second. Then you felt him go impossibly faster. He was so deep in your cunt your couldn’t even think.

He was getting close and you could tell, his dick twitching inside of you. “Mi amor.. please, let me cum inside, I need to” he moaned out. You couldn’t form words anymore so you just nodded. He threw his head back and moaned.

“I’m fucking a baby into you, fuck, I need to, Need to cum deep inside you” he whispered. You could only moan in response. Both of you were almost there, almost to your breaking points.

His thrusts were getting uncoordinated and sloppy. He brought a hand down to rub your clit, making you squeeze around him. That was enough to send both of you to the edge.

He moaned into your ear as he came, still shallow thrusting inside of you. He eventually pulled out and watched his cum drip out. He pushed it all back in with his fingers.

He went into the bathroom and go a wet towel to clean you and him off. After that, he laid down next to you. “I’m sorry I-” you cut him off and kissed him. “I love you” you told him.

“I love you too” he said back

[superhaught]

Gym Class Heroes

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: head injury, blood, homophobia

Word Count: 1600, Part 1/?

Part Two

Anonymous asked: Hey hun, sup? can i make a lil' request? i'd like to ask for a Regina George x Reader (reader is afab but kinda androgynous) where a fight breaks out at gym class and Regina steps in breaking out the fight because she gets really protective of reader (even though they never spoke before that day but both have like this unspoken attraction to one another) and takes care of reader's injuries? might lead to kissing. it's fluff with a bit of angst mixed in pls? Thanks a lot!!!!

It was your least favorite part of the day: gym class. 

You hated it. Hated it.

Not that you didn’t like being active or didn’t enjoy learning about exercise and the human body and nutrition, that was all fine.

You hated the locker room. You hated the jocks. You hated getting sweaty and smelly halfway through your school day. You hated the stench of the gym and the feel of the rubber floors. You hated fitness tests. And you didn’t particularly enjoy Coach Carr. 

But… It wasn't all bad. 

There was always Regina. 

At first, you were terrified to have gym with her. You were certain that she would find ways to make you feel self-conscious the entire semester, not necessarily intentionally, that was just her way. But, that didn’t end up being the case. 

You still never spoke to her, but every once in a while, you caught her glancing at you. In the locker room as you changed into your cutoff shirts, when you were running laps or doing sit ups, even when you were just taking notes, you could feel her eyes on you. 

You would look, and she would look away, and you’d get all flustered by her cropped tank tops and high-waisted leggings, then you’d look away again, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. 

You had to be delusional, though. There was no way that Regina George was actually crushing on you. You had to be making it up. 

Thank goodness for small miracles. It was Friday and when you entered the gym, Coach Carr yelled out that it would just be a free gym day. No particular lesson or game to worry about, everyone could just pick an activity and do what they wanted as long as they were being active. You breathed a sigh of relief and went to go grab a basketball.

You posted up at one of the hoops with a few others who were just going to practice taking shots quietly. You put your earbuds in and started playing music on your phone and began to just blissfully zone out. You took turns with your peers practicing layups and free throws while sneaking glances across the gym at Regina who was lobbing a volleyball back and forth with Gretchen. You couldn't help but notice how good she looked.

You didn’t notice Coach Carr leaving the gym to take his daily smoke break. 

You didn’t notice Shane Ohman and his buddies approaching you. 

You didn’t notice them hollering insults at you, not until it was too late. 

“Hey! I’m talking to you, you fucking dyke!” 

Shane chucked his basketball through the air at full force and it smacked into your temple. You saw stars and went straight to the ground, feeling the sting of the skin of your eyebrow splitting and the warm wetness of fresh blood pouring down the side of your face from the wound. 

One of Shane’s friends said, “ohhh shiiit.”

“That’s what you get for fucking checking out my girls’ ass, you lesbo!” Shane shouted. 

The group of guys were only egging him on, and as far as you knew, everyone else was stunned into silence. You vaguely saw the shape of Shane hovering over you before a flash of blonde ponytail entered your vision. 

“Your girl!? Now I know you better not be talking about me you fucking piece of shit. I dumped your smarmy ass so what fucking business do you have coming to my defense against someone who’s half your size? Get the fuck out of here before I get your dad and Principal Duvall in the same room and tell them you committed a hate crime and get your athletic scholarship flushed down the toilet or worse!” 

You heard the sounds of feet quickly sprinting away on the gym floor and then saw the blonde crouch down beside you through your good eye. 

“That looks bad,” she winced, lightly touching your shoulder. She turned her head to speak to someone else, “Gretchen, go get Coach Carr and tell him what happened, yeah? We’re going straight to the nurses’ office.”

Before you could process, Regina was helping you stand up and was acting as a crutch for you. She helped you make your way out of the gym through the locker room. She stopped for a moment to grab a clean towel and pressed it against the wound on your head and the pressure made you feel faint.

“Fuck I need to sit…” you gasped. 

“Okay, okay,” she quickly guided you down to a bench and sat beside you, still holding the towel to your head, “There you go, take it easy.” 

You peered at her as she slowly came into focus.

“Regina, why are you helping me?” 

“Why not?” 

“Well… because you’re you?” 

The corner of her mouth raised into a little smirk, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I don’t take you for the helping kind.” 

“How about you worry less about talking and more about staying conscious. Do you think you can walk with me to the nurse?” 

You made a solid effort to stand back up but you immediately felt lightheaded and plopped back down, shaking your head lightly. 

“Alright, we’ll stay here then.” Regina looked around the locker room and located a first aid kit on the wall, “okay, I need you to lie down slowly on the bench, slowly, and hold the towel, I’m gonna get the first aid kit just hang in there.” 

You replaced her hand on the towel with yours and held it against your head as you lied down and she got up. She came back a second later holding the first aid kit. 

Regina carefully peeled the towel away and winced along with you, “okay, I’m not a doctor obviously but I don’t think you need stitches? You probably have a concussion, though, so I think you should go to a doctor or something but I don’t want to move you for now.” 

She started fussing with things in the first aid kit and explained, “I’m just going to clean the cut and bandage it up for the time being, okay? It looks like it’s not bleeding anymore so that’s good.” 

You nodded and watched her, “you’re surprisingly caring…” 

“What did I say about talking?” 

You snapped your mouth closed. 

“Little sting,” Regina covered your eyelid with her hand and sprayed antiseptic solution onto the wound then gently wiped it with gauze. 

“How do you even bandage an eyebrow?” She muttered. 

“The butterfly ones, or the strip-type bandages to pull the edges together, and then gauze over it.” You offer. 

“Huh, okay.” 

Regina took her time finding the right things and carefully tending to you. 

“Do you think I’m going to have a scar?” 

“Maybe. Probably,” Regina answered, “it’ll look cool if you do. Very rugged.” 

“Stupid story behind it…” 

“I’m going to have Shane roasted on a spit for doing this to you, I promise you that.” 

“Oh jeez, Regina. You don’t have to do that.” 

“Did it sound like I was asking?” 

You swallowed and tested sitting up slowly after she finished bandaging you up. 

“Slow, slow…” she commanded, holding onto your upper arms.

You nodded and came to an upright position without feeling faint, “I already feel a lot better. Thanks, Regina.” 

“I still think you need to leave school and go to the doctor to get checked for a concussion. You don’t need an ambulance or anything like that, probably. We can call your parents or honestly I can drive you if your parents are working…”

“Oh… that’s really nice of you. I’ll call my mom and see what she thinks.” 

She nodded and checked your bandages again. She was fussing over you in a weirdly concerned, maternal way. 

“Regina?” 

“Hmm?” 

“How come no one sees this side of you?” 

She raised an eyebrow, “most people don’t earn this side of me.” 

“But I do?” 

“Sure.” 

You didn’t really have a good response to that so you just stayed quiet while Regina got up and got you some water and then texted Gretchen updates. 

“Gretchen will bring Coach Carr in here in a sec to check in, is that okay?” 

You nodded. 

Regina examined you again, “can I ask you a question?” 

“What’s up?” 

“Were you actually checking out my ass earlier?” 

Your face flushed like crazy, “wh-what?” 

“Shane said you were checking out my ass. Were you?”

You just stared at her. 

“You can be honest, I won’t be upset either way.” 

“I…” you took a deep breath, “yes. I was. You look incredible in those leggings.” 

Regina smiled, “good. I mean, not good that you took a basketball to the face for it, but good that you were checking me out.” 

“You’re not upset?” 

“No. Why would I be upset?“ 

“Because… I dunno, I guess because I’m no better than a gross guy?” 

Regina rolled her eyes, “no. Trust me, it’s a compliment from you.” 

Coach Carr came into the girls locker room while unnecessarily covering his eyes and quickly checked in with you, saying, “alright chief, we already called your mom and she’s on her way to pick you up, okay? We’ll get you to the front office to wait. After that, Regina, Gretchen wants you to come with her to Principal Duvall’s office to tell him what you saw happen, k?” 

Regina nodded. 

“Go team,” he added before ducking back out. 

Regina looked at you, “Did he just call you chief?” 

You shrugged, “I guess so.” 

You both laughed and Regina walked you to the front of the school to wait for your mom. She waved at you as you got into your mom’s van and you watched as the blonde turned and angrily stormed in the direction of the principal’s office, now on a new mission. 

Next Chapter

[ddejavvu]

hi! I have a request for Criminal Minds…

It’s Dom!Spencer x fem or afab reader where they’re fucking and reader is sooooo gone that she’s not even catching Spencer’s degradations and praises anymore and just says stuff like ,,you’re so pretty,, or sucks his fingers without a single CARE in the world.

IM GOING TO HELL IM SORRY 😭 also, if you happen to do this, can I be “🏹” anon? apologies if you don’t do emoji anons, ignore this if you don’t. Thanks anyway! Love your writing I’m your biggest fan <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

warning for ooc spence: i get you dom!spencer fans and this one's for you <3 but the man had to ashamedly whisper the word 'bitch' while reading it off of evidence from a crime scene so i don't think this one is really in character 💔💔💔 hopefully it's good though <3

Everything about Spencer is divine. The hair that hands in caramel-colored waves around your face, tips tickling your skin and only offering more stimulation to an already overwhelming experience. His lips, pink and plump that suckle ravenously at your neck, leaving stinging patches in their wake that won't heal for days. His cock, impressively thick and moderately long, stretching your drooling cunt and bumping rapidly against a spot so deep inside of you you're not sure you knew it existed. His fingers, long, slender, and veined, laying heavy on your tongue and putting pressure on its base so that you gag. Drool spills out around his digits as your body shakes from the force of his thrusts, and the gentle, soothing hum of his voice is with you only in sound, not in meaning.

You're too far gone to recognize the words spilling from his lips as he fucks you, terms like 'slut', 'dirty', 'filthy', and 'dumb' that, on a normal day, would send you into a stammering, blushing mess of denial and excuses. But now you're basking in his saccharine tone, letting his words wash over you and evaporate before your fucked-out brain has time to process them.

"Everyone thinks you're a genius," Spencer croons, sucking hard at a spot against your throat as he jams his fingers onto your tongue, "They say I'm lucky to have found you, 'cause you can keep up with me. But I know the truth, angel." He holds your hip in place with a single calloused hand, "You go dumb on my cock. That's all it takes, isn't it? Just a few. short. minutes." He punctuates his accusations with particularly rough thrusts, "And I've got you braindead on my dick."

"Is that true, baby?" He asks, kissing his way up your jaw and tracing the curve with the stiff tip of his tongue. You're whimpering around the three fingers he's stuffed in your mouth, lips desperately milking them like you would his cock. He curls them on your tongue, pressing down so your speech is garbled, "Answer me, honey. You go stupid for me, don't you?"

"Love you," You manage to blabber, drool spilling from your lips as you speak around his fingers. You're a spluttering mess, spit pooled in your mouth that coats Spencer's digits and seeps down your chin. You suckle at him like a man starved, and the pressure actually starts to hurt between the wayward lapping of your tongue at the pads of his fingers, "Love you- Spence, love you."

He feels your cunt clench around his dick, your body seemingly in tune with the single goal of sucking him dry. He muffles a groan into the crook of your neck, wondering if you'll ever remember the filthy way he's speaking to you now.

The words are harsh, but they're used endearingly, and he hums them into your neck with a kiss, like it's a compliment, "Dumb slut."

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

A long overdue update:

Hi everyone. Long time no see. I literally have not opened Tumblr since the last time I posted here. Hope everyone is doing ok. Figured I owed y’all an apology and explanation for kinda just vanishing.

First, I did in fact get a car! It’s a 2015 Nissan Versa Note. I don’t particularly like it but a friend gave me a deal on it that I couldn’t turn down. Once my life stabilizes I’m probably going to sell it and buy an old truck, maybe a 70s Ford. I’d love a little sports car or a land yacht but rear wheel drive is a bit impractical for brutal New England winters, and the Jeep really put me in Old American Truck Mode. But yes I have a car now!

Second, unfortunately this is an official notice of hiatus. When I last posted saying I was taking some time off it was because I had just had an incredibly stressful move and did not have the energy to keep this blog up. I figured I’d take some time to get settled in, relax, and then pick this back up after a week or two, but the last month has been really rough - the short version is one of the people I was living with turned out to be a pretty horrendous human being who managed to get everybody living in the house essentially kicked out via sheer drama. Within a month and a half. It’s a long story but tl:dr if you quite literally slander a property manager with heavy unfounded accusations of horrible crimes, they’ll probably bail from the whole situation. And since they’re gone the landlord has to hand ownership of everything over to a company that’s forcing everyone still here to vacate. I’m now fighting to not have to live in aforementioned Nissan Versa through the aforementioned brutal New England winter. On top of that, I’m a retail manager so we’re going into our busiest most stressful season, so that’s been an extra level of exhaustion.

So what does that mean for this blog? Well, as I said, I’m officially going on indefinite hiatus, as are the projects I was working on in relation, including the reference website. I’m really sorry, I’m just way too stressed and dealing with way too much. If I could, I would just hand off administrative power to someone else, but this is a sideblog so I can’t hand off login credentials without also giving access to my main/personal account. It’s my biggest regret of this account, but when I started it I never expected it to blow up the way it did back in September - I had no reason to expect to need it to be its own entirely separate blog. I love what I was doing here and I thought that it might even be a nice distraction from everything going on, but the upkeep required with this blog is just more than I can deal with right now. I hope that things settle down soon and that I can genuinely come back here and enjoy what I was doing, but I just need literally anything to level out in my real life and to not be in 100% survival mode, because at the moment I literally do not have the energy to pour into this.

Anyway. Sorry for the long post, I’m not good at not being overly verbose. I’m really sorry for kind of abandoning this project, and I hope I can get back to it relatively soon, it just might be a while.

In the mean time, I hope those of y’all who I turned onto cars as a potential hobby find some other good outlets! I highly recommend Donut Media’s series “Up to Speed” on YouTube, as well as the channels Regular Car Reviews, Doug DeMuro, Garbage Time, and Aging Wheels. All great YouTube channels that are both informative and very approachable and fun.

Godspeed and much love. Hope to see y’all soon

- Identifying Cars in Posts admin ❤️

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers (plus Micheal) chasing their future s/o and mid chase they trip head first bc of a rock and their s/o just turns around and laughs at them. The slasher just get up and start chasing them again but there s/o can’t stop laughing

I think it’s a funny fic❤️

U don’t have to do this btw

Oh but I want to 😄 unfortunately I couldn't come up with a good scenario for Michael, sorry. If I ever get an idea for it I will add him to thia post

Slashers tripping and falling while chasing their future s/o

Jason Voorhees

Jason is unsure about chasing you, and that’s the only reason why this happens. Usually, when he is *really* determined to kill someone, something like that wouldn’t happen to him; not at Crystal Lake at least, where he knows every stick and stone by heart. He may get his weapon stuck in places, but tripping? No way.

But you… you are different. Really, you don’t seem like his other victims at all. Your only real “crime” is entering his territory in the first place. So yes, Jason isn’t quite as set on killing you. He might even let you get away.

He is debating with himself if sparing you would really be a good idea, when his foot gets caught on a small rock, and he finds himself face first on yet another rock, leaving him with a bloody nose.

You stop and look at him, your cheeks puffed up trying to contain your laugher. But when you try to speak, it just bursts out. Jason, of course, is not pleased, and immediately gets up to continue his pursuit.

Busy laughing as you are, you do not see the rope on the ground, and you quickly find yourself in the same position as Jason, face-first on the ground, with a nosebleed and a bruise on your face.

He catches up to you and you turn around. “I… guess I deserve it now, for laughing at you.” You see the blood dripping from underneath his mask and pull a tissue from your pocket. “Here. Sorry for laughing earlier.”

He hesitates before accepting, and once his bleeding nose is plugged up, he reaches out his hand to pull you to your feet.

Okay, it wasn’t nice of you to laugh at him, but you apologized. And that seals the deal for him; you’re a good one. You don’t have to die.

Vincent Sinclair

He actually trips over his own equipment. No idea *how* you got into his workshop while still breathing; you were probably trying to hide from Bo, only to find yourself face to face with his brother. Once he notices you, he of course grabs his ornate carving knifes and tries to attack you, only for the strap of his apron to get stuck at his chair, which causes him to trip over said chair while trying to untangle himself. And to put the cherry on top, when he hits the ground, his mask cracks and falls off.

You try to bite back your laughter. Unsuccessfully. Still, you decide to run before Vincent can recover.

He catches up to you in the living room of the house. Now maskless, he advances on you while you are alternating between giggles and sobs.

Then you can see him. And just kind of blurt out:“A pretty face like yours really shouldn’t be covered up by a mask.”

He lowers his knives, confused. Are you… *hitting on him*?

Freddy Krueger

Even in a world where he is god, Freddy isn’t quite safe from the little annoyances of every day life. This time, while making one of his usual quips, he makes a small misstep and lands on his ass.

You laugh, all of your fear going up in smoke, and with that, Freddy’s powers.

“Fucking hell”, he grumbles while he pulls himself to his feet. “What, you think I’m harmless just because I tripped, bitch?”

You are doubled over, holding your sides. “Oh really? Cause you don’t look that threatening right now, old man!”

He growls, frustrated that you are *right*. You are in his world now, but he can’t do anything because you’re not scared.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is pursuing you through the walls of his family’s estate, but underestimates his momentum while rounding a corner, which causes him to lose his balance and fall backwards.

You look at the sight, and while the laughter is bubbling up inside you already, you can’t help but feel the protectiveness you have started feeling towards your “charge” flare up.

He said he wouldn’t hurt you. He said he would be good. And really he has never hurt you, right?

Still chuckling to yourself, you walk up to him and offer your hand. “I think I win this round”, you say, trying to play it off as if you were only playing catch.

He looks up at you and allows you to pull him up. “You… were just playing?”

“Of course, would I be laughing otherwise?”

Brahms doesn’t quite believe that, but as long as it means you will stay, he won’t ask any more questions.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba does tend to be a little bit on the clumsy side, so it’s no surprise when he loses his balance while swinging the chainsaw at you. It clatters to the ground, and gets dangerously close to cutting *him* instead.

You quickly grab the handle and turn it off, almost out of reflex, as if the person about to be cut by it hadn’t just tried to kill you.

The ridiculousness of the whole situation makes you burst out laughing. “What am I even doing here?”, you choke out inbetween tears of laughter. Then you shake your head and look at Bubba.

“You okay? The chainsaw didn’t get you, did it?”

He looks at you like you’re a hero. No, he can’t eat you. You saved him. He has to tell Drayton that you’re a friend now.

[str4wkinzi]

02/02/24, working on a fic abt toji but i do NOT want to. wont be out until like next year

Prison Warden! Wriothesley x Prisoner! Reader.

nsfw content. by continuing into this post, you will be exposed to nsfw content. you have been warned.

Wriothesley never left the underworld. He’d stay there for months on end, barely bothering to call.

Non-prisoners aren’t allowed anywhere near the Fortress of Meropide, let alone go inside it. So, what do you do to see your beloved Wriothesley?

You commit a petty crime, tell on yourself to Neuvilette (who already knows what you’re doing), and land yourself in the Fortress of Meropide. As soon as you get inside you see him, arms crossed.

“I’ll take the convict from here.” He says to the guard. He leads you to his office, coming across people who call him ‘Your Grace.’

You both finally get to his office, he locks the big doors and turns to look at you.

“His grace? Is that why you don’t want to leave this place?” You snort. Wriothesley doesn’t budge.

“Oh, come on. I haven’t seen you in so long-“ “So you get sent to prison to see me.” It comes off more as a statement than a question.

You start to feel a little dejected. Looking upon your reasons that got you here, they don’t seem at all smart.

You give your lover and sheepish smile.

“I just missed you. Can you blame me?” You say as you go over and give him a kiss.

He sighs and smiles at you. Returning your kiss, he mumbles about how he missed you too. Suddenly, you pull back and look into his eyes.

The look he knows all too well.

“You didn’t just come down here because you missed me, did you?” He questions. Though, he already knows your real motives.

Now knowing you’ve been caught, you sigh and admit part of the reason you came. He laughs in your face for a hot second. Then, silence. Pure silence with a stone look on his face.

“Over the desk, convict.” Wriothesley demands.

You obey and bend over his desk. You feel the cold metal handcuffs on your wrists as they clank shut.

He takes your pants and underwear off. His fingers start to glide up and down along your slit, occasionally circling your clit.

Without warning, he plunges two of his thick fingers inside you. You whine out at the sudden intrusion, calling out your lovers name.

he uses another one of his fingers to rub your clit. Soon making you close to cumming.

“I’m close!” You whine out.

Just as you’re about to come undone, he stops.

“You’re going to cum on my cock.” He growls into your neck as he slides his pants and underwear off.

He starts to ease into you, rubbing your clit and kissing your neck.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He hisses as he starts to slowly rock his hips into you.

Moans escape your lips as little groans come from his. He starts to pull you back by the handcuffs, slamming you on his cock.

Little whines turn into full screams of pleasure. He starts to grin as he gropes your clothed breasts. He knows you’re close to your release for the second time. As soon as he feels that pre-orgasm clench of your cunt, he stops.

You whine out. Looking back at him with tears in your eyes.

“You’re a convict now, y’know? I can’t just give u special treatment, baby.” He chuckles with a shit eating grin like no other.

He leans down, chest against your back as he whispers in your ear.

“Favoritism is against code. You gotta work for it, honey.”

You start to work your hips backwards, effectively bouncing yourself on his cock.

He starts to groan as you speed up your movements. You soon get close and clench around his cock again.

He grabs your hips and starts to slam his cock into you, slapping sounds fill the air as screams occupancy them.

He fucks you through your shared orgasm. He cums inside you and pulls his cock out of you, watching his cum drip out of you.

He puts his clothes on, then yours. He un cuffs you and sits you in his desks chair to relax. He goes outside with some paperwork but comes back soon after.

“You’ll be out tomorrow.” He says while he lifts you up and sits down on the chair, putting you in his lap.

You whine about how you don’t want to go.

He finally caves.

“I’ll let Neuvilette and the gardes know that you can come down when you’d like.” Wriothesley sighs.

He sees the sparkle in your eye as you hug his neck. He kisses your forehead.

“I love you.” He whispers.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep. Right in your lovers arms.

Im gonna be like a dad that shows up every 7 years so be prepared <3

(got the idea from yagami yato (ty for reminding me that one comment) i also heard that shes done some not so good things and im not supporting her in ANY way! Ty to these two comments (i deleted them cuz i wanted to address it in the post itself just incase ppl dont check comments)

[blueshirtjamie]

"Slut!" // J. Hughes

In which Jack and the reader decide to go public with their blossoming relationship, only to discover that the internet can be a cruel place. Is all of it really worth it? (Inspired by the masterpiece of a vault track Taylor gave us.)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, insults (the title is slut after all), not proofread so please pardon any small errors!

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: I honestly don't know Jack's personality very well so hopefully I did an okay job of characterizing him. I hope you enjoy this! My requests are always open :)

_____________________________________________

Everyone wants him, that was my crime

You had been dating New Jersey’s star young forward, Jack Hughes, for some time now– but it was a complete secret. Jack was one of the NHL’s biggest names because of his insane talent on the ice. And, much to your chagrin, he was also one of the most crushed-on players in the league. His ocean-blue eyes and sweet smile charmed anyone who laid eyes on him, and you were so afraid of what people would say if they found out that you two were an item. New Jersey Devils fans, and Jack Hughes fans in particular, were nothing if not protective and could be so mean online. You liked Jack a lot–you two had so much fun together, always laughing and doing fun things, and you didn’t want the world to break you two apart. You were afraid to share Jack, something you had shared with him from the start of your relationship. The Tweets, Tumblr posts, and Instagram accounts dedicated to your boy ignited a jealous and protective streak in you, but it was the price you’d have to pay to stay with Jack– and one you’d pay willingly. 

Aquamarine, moonlit swimmin' pool// What if all I need is you?

“I think we should go public soon, babe,” Jack said one night as you two were taking a late-night dip in your backyard pool. You swam over to him and put your arms around his neck, planting a small kiss on his lips. 

“ I don’t know, Jack,” you said. “I’m just so scared of what people will say. What if all I need is you? No one else’s opinions and validation, just my boy?” You gave him a small smile. 

“I know you’re scared, baby,” he replied. “But I want to show you off to the world. Everyone deserves to see my pretty girl and learn all about you and your kind heart.”

You blushed, and a sigh escaped you. 

“Okay,” you conceded. “If you’re sure, J, then I trust you.” 

Jack smiled, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. The kind that made your stomach flutter and your heart melt. 

Got love-struck, went straight to my head// Got lovesick all over my bed

The moonlit swim replayed in your head as you two lay in bed that night. Jack had been sound asleep next to you, softly snoring, for a while now. You, on the other hand, were wide awake, your mind racing. “I want to show you off to the world,” you heard on loop. The sweet facial expression Jack gave you as you said it. The soft kiss that had quickly heated up. God, you loved kissing Jack, and with each kiss, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper for him. Each sweet word from his pretty lips intensified your feelings. There was no denying it— you were falling in love with Jack Hughes, and he was right. It was time for the world to finally know. 

The next morning, you sat next to Jack in bed as he scrolled through photos of you guys, trying to find the perfect few to post on his Instagram. Finally, you settled on three– a shot of you two post-game, one with the city skyline in the background, and a selfie of you kissing his cheek. Your heart pounded as Jack typed out the caption: “my whole heart ❤️”. He pressed “post” and you took a deep breath. 

“I could throw up,” you said, curling into Jack’s side. He held you close, placing a gentle kiss on your head. 

“Everyone is gonna love you, babe, I don’t know how they couldn’t.” 

And I break down, then he's pullin' me in// In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

As it turns out, the internet was a cruel place, and not everyone loved you. While the comments on Jack’s post were mostly positive, especially the ones from teammates and other players, others were not so nice. The words “slut”, “puck bunny”, “clout chaser”, and “bitch” floated around a lot, and so you found yourself doom scrolling through social media, reading every comment you could find. Your photos were reposted time and time again on various accounts, and it was overwhelming. Tears welled in your eyes and you tried hard to hold them back, but you were unsuccessful. Once they started falling, they just wouldn’t stop. Jack walked around the corner into your bedroom to find you a sobbing mess. He took your phone from your hands, powered it off, and took both of your hands in his. 

“We’re done with that for today, okay?” he said gently. He pulled back the covers on your bed and helped you get in before getting in himself, pulling your body into his. 

“They’re being so mean, Jack,” you said between sobs. “I knew it was a bad idea, I knew it!” 

Jack shushed you gently, wiping your tears with his thumb. 

“Those people don’t matter, love. What matters is that you’re mine, and I’m going to protect you like my life depends on it. You and me, that’s all that matters, okay?”

You nodded as a sob racked through your body. Jack held you like that, whispering reassurances and stroking your hair until you calmed down, your breathing becoming more even and your cries fading out. He handed you a box of tissues from the nightstand and smiled at you as you dabbed at your eyes and blew your nose. 

“I’m sorry baby,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Jack cupped your face with both of his hands, looking you in your eyes. 

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for, baby,” he said. “At some point, you get used to any kind of comments about you and block them out. I forgot that not everyone can ignore it like I’ve learned to. I’m gonna protect you, okay? I mean it. I will tell you time and time again how amazing you are, and I’ll make sure they know it too.” He kissed you gently, and you melted into him. 

I said, "It might blow up in your pretty face"// I'm not sayin', "Do it anyway"// But you're going to

After an afternoon spent snuggling up to Jack and watching movies, you were calm, and the comments had drifted from your mind. Let them talk, you thought. As long as I have my boy, that’s all that matters. 

“Let’s go out tonight,” Jack said, looking at you, his face lit up in excitement. 

“Jack…” you started, an air of uncertainty in your voice. 

“No, I mean it. Let’s go out and be seen, show people that their comments don’t matter in the slightest. Let’s go have fun and get your mind off things, ya know?”

You sighed deeply, contemplating. You could dress up, go out, and have some fun with your boy, or you could stay in bed and sulk. Okay, you thought. Let’s do this. 

“Okay,” you said, looking at Jack and smiling. “But if it blows up in your pretty face, don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.”

His elation visibly grew as his smile widened. 

“Okay!” He said, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Let’s get ready, then.”

But if I’m all dressed up, they might as well be lookin' at us// And if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once// And if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

So there you were, dressed in a sexy little black dress that hugged your curves and showed off your best assets, your hair and makeup done up. You felt confident, you felt strong, you felt… hot. Jack agreed, whistling at you as you rounded the corner and stepped into his view. 

“Wow, babe,” he said, taking you in. “You are absolutely stunning. I can’t wait to show my girl off,” he smiled, taking your hand and spinning you in a small circle. He pulled you in then, both his hands on your waist, and gave you a long, slow kiss. You melted into him and deepened the kiss. After pulling away, you took in the sight of Jack. Black pants and blazer paired with a crisp white button-down and black tie, hair mussed up in just the right way that you loved on him. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you smiled, meeting his eyes with your own. He smiled back, that charming, bright smile that gave you butterflies every time. 

“Ready to go?” he asked. You nodded confidently. 

“We look so good,” you said. “They might as well be looking at us, right?” 

Jack laughed. ���That’s my girl.”

The bar was busy on a Friday night, as was expected, so you two were able to grab a drink inconspicuously, blending into the crowd. Jack kept a hand around your waist the entire time, gently guiding you through the sea of people drinking, mingling, and dancing. You two found a table to stand at and people-watched, chatting and laughing together. It felt good to be out, to be dressed up, to feel confident. Your conversation was soon interrupted by a man, clearly already a few drinks in.

“Oh my god,” he shouted over the music. “Jack Hughes!” 

He clapped a firm hand on Jack’s back. 

“Can I take a picture with you?” he asked, more as a warning, as his phone quickly obscured Jack’s face as he leaned in for a selfie. 

Just as soon as he arrived, he was gone. 

“So it begins,” Jack said, a tone of annoyance in his voice. “I bet that picture is already on Twitter.” 

He took his phone out to check social media, and you leaned close to him, peering over his shoulder. He placed a hand on your lower back, scrolling through his mentions with the other hand. Sure enough– a grainy, dimly lit photo of you two in candid conversation had been posted by a hockey “news” account. 

Jack Hughes spotted with his new girlfriend at a Newark bar! (via @jacklukequinn)

Somehow, this didn’t bother you at all. If you were gonna dress up, they should be looking at you. You two were a hot couple, and the world deserved to see. If they called you a slut, or a puck bunny, or a clout chaser, so what? It was worth it. You had Jack– what they all wanted– so it was worth it. You had the boy who melted your heart with his charming smile, made you feel beautiful with his kind compliments, and kissed you like no one else ever had. If you were gonna get drunk, you might as well be drunk in love, too. You took Jack’s hand, looking him in his eyes. 

“Come on baby, I wanna dance,” you said, a smile creeping onto your face. 

Takin’ your time in the tangerine neon light, this is luxury// You're not sayin' you're in love with me// But you're goin' to

You led Jack to the dance floor, throwing your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your hips. You swayed them to the beat, moving as close to him as you could be. The world around you faded– the words, the people, the thoughts, the insecurity, all fading away as you danced and the alcohol set in. It was just you and Jack, the neon lights of the bar casting his face in a tangerine glow. He looked at you lovingly, his eyes soft and his smile sweet. You laughed, pulling him close to place a kiss on his delicious lips. This, this right here was all you needed. All that mattered. Just you and Jack, falling in love. If they called you a slut, it truly might be worth it for once.

[lovelyjj]

maybe a mix of “i’m just afraid” and “tell me the truth”? 🫶

avoidance

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.4k

a/n: I lowkey hate this.

You and JJ were the best of friends. You did everything together. He was your person you told everything to. He was your partner in crime. There were no secrets between the two of you.

You and JJ were on the couch that was on John B’s porch, enjoying the rain. The rain was blanketing the outer banks in water, soaking the grass and trees.

“I love the rain,” you stated.

“Really why?” JJ asked.

“I don’t know it makes me feel less alone, like the sky is crying with me.”

“That’s a really good reason,” JJ replied.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“You want to dance?” JJ asked with a goofy grin on his face.

“In the rain?” You questioned surprised.

“In the rain,” JJ confirmed.

“Ok.”

JJ got up and reached his hand out for you to take, which you gladly accepted. The two of you went out on the grass and JJ held onto one hand. Then he put one hand on your waist and you put the hand not holding his, on his shoulder.

You guys danced and he spun you around and you got soaking wet. You were having a lot of fun though. You were having a blast and so was JJ.

When you were finished JJ ushered you inside as you giggled.

You both changed into dry clothes and afterwards JJ had an idea.

“Let’s make some hot chocolate,” JJ announced.

“Yes please,” you answered.

JJ whipped up two mugs of cocoa and you both sipped yours quietly.

“Tastes good,” you whispered.

“Wanna watch a movie?” you asked JJ.

“Sure,” JJ replied.

You both settled into John B’s living room and put on spider-man. You ended up falling asleep on the pullout couch.

——————

A couple days later you were all going out on the boat. The day was bright and sunny perfect for going out on the water.

JJ was looking at you in your bikini top. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at his best friend like that but he couldn’t help it. You looked hot and JJ could hardly look away from your chest.

You were oblivious to JJ’s ogling. You were happy to be on the boat with your friends.

“I can’t believe the weather is so nice,” you spoke.

“Yeah it’s perfect,” Pope responded.

“I thought it would be windy out here on the water,” JJ said removing his attention from your breasts.

“Hope we can catch some fish,” John B announced.

“Should be able to,” JJ commented.

While the boys were fishing, you Kiara and Sarah were on your phones. You were looking through your photos and you noticed how many you had of you and JJ.

There was one of you two at the beach with the waves in the background and a pretty sunset.

“Can I post this J?” you asked.

“Let me see it.”

You handed your phone to JJ and he took it. He scanned the image and smiled a genuine smile.

“Yeah that’s a good one. Go ahead fire away.”

You gave him a smile and decided to post the picture.

After a while you got a few comments. One was from Sarah that said, “Goals.”

You ignored it because you didn’t want to draw attention to it. The last thing you needed was people assuming your in a relationship with JJ cause your not. Your just friends and that’s all you ever will be.

—————

You were spending more and more time with JJ. Sometimes with the other pogues and sometimes just the two of you.

You were starting to catch feelings for him. You didn’t know how or why but being around him brought out the best in you. You started to fall in love with your best friend. You were scared you’ve never felt this way before. And what if he doesn’t love you back.

You decided to go to Kiara and ask for her help. She was working at the wreck, so you made your way over there.

“Hey Kie, I need your help,” you hesitated.

“Yeah sure y/n whatever you need,” Kiara replied.

“Here let’s sit down,” Kiara said as she directed you to a small table by the window.

You sat across from her and she gave you a kind smile with kind eyes.

“What’s up,” Kiara started.

“Well um I’ve sorta had these feelings for a certain someone and I’m not sure what to do about it. I just know I don’t want to tell them,” you began.

“Why don’t you want to tell them,” Kiara asked.

“I’m just afraid,” you bit your lip.

“What do you have to be afraid of?”

“Well first of all he could not feel the same way. He could reject me. He could laugh in my face. The list goes on,” you threw your hands up in the air.

“JJ wouldn’t do that,” Kiara raised a brow.

“How do you know it’s JJ?” You asked.

“Oh come on, who else would it be.”

“You’ve got a point.” you laughed.

“Speak of the devil,” Kiara whispered as you turned to the sound of the door opening.

JJ sauntered in to the wreck, Pope, John B and Sarah following suit.

“The gangs all here,” Kiara exclaimed.

“I need to go,” you whispered to Kiara.

“What why?”

“I just need to, ok!”

You slipped out the back door leaving the rest of the crew utterly confused.

—————

You have been avoiding JJ. It’s not that you wanted to, you hated the distance between you and not seeing him but you didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

You were getting worried because you thought JJ was on to you. Now JJ was getting worried because he hasn’t seen you in a while. He figured that you were mad at him. He hated it.

When the pogues would hang out all together you would not be there. You would miss the activities they had planned.

It was getting harder and harder hiding your feelings from JJ. You would always blush or your heart would beat really fast. So your only option you decided was to stop hanging out with him.

JJ was confused because of your absence. He was going to get to the bottom of this. He was determined.

He assumed you would be at your house. So that’s where he showed up. He knocked on your door a few times and after a few minutes you came to the door. You were shocked to see JJ standing there.

You wanted to run back to your room and hide. You were embarrassed by your actions. Just all of a sudden ghosting him. He didn’t deserve that.

“Hey um so I miss you. A lot. And I think we need to talk,” JJ scratched the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

You stepped outside and closed the door behind you.

“I need to know why your avoiding me,” JJ insisted.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“y/n.”

“Ok ok I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want to see you.” You nervously crossed your arms and looked down.

JJ wasn’t buying it. “No. Tell me the truth.”

As you looked into JJ’s pleading blue eyes you felt your stomach flip. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried.

“Fine. You want the truth? The truth is I’m in love with you. And I don’t know how to act around you anymore. I assumed you didn’t feel the same way so to save myself the rejection, I avoided you.”

“You thought I wouldn’t feel the same way?” JJ questioned.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” JJ confessed.

“Really?”

JJ nodded his head.

“I can’t believe you did all that.” JJ said surprised.

You took a step closer to JJ and he took your face in his hands.

“Come here,” JJ whined.

You didn’t need to be asked twice. You leaned in and JJ placed lips on yours. Instantly you felt electrifying sparks shoot trough you. Your stomach erupted with butterflies. The kiss was gentle and delicate. JJ was excited and you were giddy.

Your lips were crushing together and moving against each other. JJ was feeling warm all over. Your hands were resting on JJ’s shoulders. One of JJ’s hand rested on your jaw and one hand snaked lower to your butt squeezing lightly. This caused you to gasp, allowing JJ’s tongue to slide into your mouth.

After making out you pulled away breathless. You wore a big smile and JJ laughed.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” JJ broke the silence.

“I’ve missed you too,” you responded.

“Will you be mine?” JJ asked.

“Yes, I’ll be yours,” you exclaimed.

JJ picked you up and spun you around, your laughter mixing together to create a sense of harmony and happiness. Since you and JJ were best of friends your romantic relationship will only flourish because you loved each other wholeheartedly.

[gurugirl]

The Halloween Call | cop!harry

can be read as standalone

Summary: Harry takes a call to check out the scene of crime at an old abandoned house, well known as the Slaughter House with a grim history.

A/N: You guys voted for a cop!harry update and so here you go! This one is a little different than the usual cop!harry one shots and is connected to an upcoming ghost!harry one shot to be posted later this month. This is a crossover of sorts where cop!harry responds to an emergency call at the haunted house that ghost!harry lives in. Hope you Enjoy!

Word Count: 3656

Warning: 18+ only, smut, mentions of death, murder, evil spirits, a seance, and Harry gets very spooked (nothing gruesome just mentions)

cop!harry masterlist

Something told Harry his day was going to be a strange one. Maybe it was because it was Halloween. He wasn’t sure where the feeling was coming from but he knew he needed to cuddle and love on Y/n before he left their house for work.

And of course that turned into Y/n grinding down over him with his cock deep inside of her with her palms flat on his pecs, tits in his face.

“Fuck, Harry!”

Harry’s tummy was already swirling with that thick, syrupy rippling that made his balls squeeze against his body. He held her hips and gritted his teeth, “Shit, baby. That feels so good…”

“Can I come? Oh god! Please?” Y/n’s face was screwed up as she inhaled a sharp breath, her orgasm about to spill out.

The bed rocked gently and every time Harry thrust up into her and their bodies pressed together, the squelching of wet sex sounded in their bedroom.

“Baby, come on my cock. Fuck, honey!” Harry closed his eyes. Only a couple more minutes and he could come. If he continued to stare up at his gorgeous girl grinding on his cock with her tits swaying and her lips all puffy and bitten he was sure he couldn’t last while she was coming and squeezing around his cock. He cherished the way it felt when she was orgasming and gripping him tight right before he’d allow himself to finally come.

“Yes! Fuck… Harry! I’m coming…” She moaned through her gasps and rocked over him when her orgasm snapped and she gushed in her release.

“Good girl… feels so good doesn’t it?” Harry whimpered his words with a shaky breath.

Her moans and whines and the slip of her walls over his shaft put him over the edge. He could no longer hold himself back as he pumped his orgasm into her tummy. He lifted his hips and held her down on his prick tightly as he coughed out a loud groan.

He had come so hard he nearly fell back to sleep after his body calmed but when he heard her giggling he opened his eyes. She was lying flat on his chest and looking up at him with her finger twirling a section of hair at his temple.

“What a perfect way to start the day.” She hummed and grinned at him.

Harry smiled and pinched her bottom, “Agreed.”

During Halloween, Harry was used to getting lots of domestic calls. Sometimes they were about the occult or someone being scared someone was in their house. Pranks were usually the culprit, but typically it wound up just being wild imaginations and a little too much weed and horror movies.

But today’s call was different. First of all, it had come quite early in the day. It wasn’t even 10:00 a.m. Usually, Halloween calls came when the sun was down. He turned on his lights and siren and safely raced down the neighborhood streets toward the house, famously known as the Slaughter House. A supposed haunted house long abandoned by its last occupants 55 years ago. Normally Harry didn’t investigate things of this nature but he was closest to the scene and could get there to secure the premises.

The call was for the homicide of 11 people. The woman who called 911 admitted to having been in the house and was hosting a séance. He was told she might be a little crazy and that backup was on the way but an officer already on the scene was with the girl so she didn’t run off.

Pulling up to the front he visually inspected everything, the neighbor’s yards, the street, the front of the house. Officer Danzel was with a young woman who looked distraught.

Looking at Danzel he asked, “Is this the woman who called in about the homicides? Cooper?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying to calm her down. She’s saying they held a 55-year anniversary séance inside that house. In the basement. If there are any bodies they’ll be there.”

The young woman looked up at Harry, “You won’t find any bodies. Or anything. The house took them. I saw it. It started off with us making contact quickly and then…” She looked down and inhaled sharply.

Danzel patted her back, “That’s okay, Cooper. He’s just gonna go in and take a look.”

The girl shook her head and reached for Harry’s arm, “But… you need more- more men. Don’t go in there alone. He… he’s still in there.”

Harry looked toward the house and couldn’t see any activity from where he stood in the street but he had a job to do regardless of how scary and gruesome the scene might be, though he doubted there would be anything based on the warning he was given about the Cooper’s mental state, he still had to check it out. Plus, he had a gun and was a trained policeman so any murderer would be put at a disadvantage very quickly.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me this, but I do need to check the premises and make sure whoever is in there doesn’t escape.”

“NO!” She shrieked and Harry widened his eyes. This young woman had really seen something that had her shaken up. “No! Officer, listen. This thing isn’t of this world. It’s not human. It’s… evil and it’s attached to the house. It was a séance! We were trying to speak to the innocent…” She backed away and put her hands in her hair and lowered her voice, “No one will ever believe me. Just please,” she looked back up at Harry, “Please don’t go in alone. I can…” she sniffed and looked at Danzel, “I’m not going anywhere. I can stay put here and you go in with him. Don’t let him go in alone.”

Now Harry was not a superstitious man. He didn’t believe in ghosts or anything supernatural like that at all. But the girl was scared out of her wits. She seemed genuinely concerned for him. And somehow he was feeling uneasy about the whole thing as well. He felt his adrenaline spike and a little scratchy something in his spine that had his hackles raised.

“There’s no need to worry. I’ll be in and out. Backup should be here to join me inside soon.”

The girl shook her head, “Officer. I know you don’t believe in evil or spirits but that house is full of them. And the one that’s conducting everything won’t be deterred by a gun. Sir, please-“

“That’s okay, Cooper.” He looked her over and then back to Danzel who had a telling look on his face. The man didn’t believe a word the girl had spoken.

She nodded and turned to look back at the house before Harry continued, “You’re right. I don’t believe in that but I believe that you think something very scary happened and I will be going in safely and soon I’ll have more help to join me.”

There was nothing she could say to deter Officer Styles and she knew it. But she tried and she figured that was going to have to be good enough. Hopefully, the other cops would be arriving soon.

The front of the house was all boarded up. The grass was overgrown, vines wound up the porch's banister. He walked to the side of the house and noticed a small piece of paper taped to the siding: The Séance Experience this way with an arrow pointing in the direction he was headed.

From what he could tell, every window and crack had been boarded up. The house was huge. Harry could only imagine what a property like this could fetch if someone fixed it up.

When he got to the back there was a small table with burnt-out candles and a box turned on its side that appeared to have been a spot to take money, though the box was empty.

Harry scanned the backyard and the fence that contained it. Not much different than the front. A huge oak in the middle with long grass all around, overgrown bushes, and patches where weeds were growing tall along the fence.

Turning back to the door, where boards had been carefully pried off he had a feeling that something bad was about to happen. He wasn’t a man who usually tapped into his gut feelings but something about it all wasn’t sitting right and that strange little scratch at the base of his spine began to rise and gave him goosebumps as he pushed the door open to enter.

He noted the door wasn’t closed. Which made sense based on the story Cooper had told him. She was obviously in a big hurry to get out of there.

Inside the house it was dark. The windows being boarded up didn’t let in much light and electricity was obviously shut off. Everything was dusty and quiet. As he walked deeper into the house, gun out in front, his finger in the safety position, he stepped quietly and observantly into the hallway off the kitchen looking both ways before continuing toward what appeared to be the front of the house.

The hair on the back of his neck rose when he felt a deep chill over his frame and his heart thundered wildly. He couldn’t hear anyone, nor could he see anything amiss.

The living room was empty, aside from old furniture covered with sheets. He turned back into the hallway and checked each room, all of which were empty and quiet. He knew the house had a basement and that’s where the séance was held so the basement would be his last stop.

Slowly he made his way up the old wooden stairs. The house must have been quite grand back in the day. Harry noted that it was in need of repair and love but the craftsmanship was stunning.

The first room he got to was a bedroom. Nothing. No one. The second bedroom was larger. The master suite possibly. He stepped into the room and paused when he saw something move but then breathed out in relief when he realized it was only his reflection in an old mirror atop a dresser.

The next room was a bathroom, then a hall closet, and then another room (so far Harry had counted five bedrooms). Like the other bedrooms, he opened the closet to check inside. Shining his flashlight in he saw a long brown wool coat hanging at the back. He reached for the coat to move it away so he could look at the back of the closet when suddenly the bedroom door slammed closed. He turned quickly, gun aimed at the door, and saw no one.

Harry was feeling his nerves prickle in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. So far he’d seen nothing but this house gave him the serious creeps. And where was his backup? What was taking them so long?

Harry slowly made his way back to the door that had just been slammed and opened it to look into the hallway. Nothing. No one.

He sighed to catch his breath. Maybe it was a heavy draft that caused the door to slam. But that itchy scratchy feeling up his spine began to spread and he felt the tremble in his hands. He couldn’t stop it.

Looking back into the bedroom at the opened closet door he made the decision to leave it and head back downstairs to go into the basement. He really hoped his backup would have arrived by then so he didn’t have to go down into a dark basement where there was supposedly some kind of dark entity waiting for him. Not that he believed in any of that.

At the top of the stairs, Harry pulled out his radio to check it. He clicked the call button but the device didn’t even fuzz back at him. It was silent. It was dead.

“Just fucking great,” he mumbled as he hooked the radio back into his belt and descended the steps.

Going back into the kitchen and into the short hallway that led to a laundry room he stood before the closed basement door and inhaled a deep breath.

Placing his hand on the knob he hesitated. Cooper had nearly begged him not to go in alone. What if he never came out? What if there was something otherworldly down there? Something evil? Would Y/n think he’d abandoned her?

He shook his head and laughed at himself, “Don’t be a pussy.”

Twisting the knob and pulling the door open, he peered in and there was nothing but blackness staring back at him.

Clicking his flashlight back on and stepping in onto the landing he pointed his light down the stairs and around the area he could see as he began to slowly step down into the dark space.

As soon as his shoes hit the cement flooring at the bottom he heard something that sounded like scraping but could have been a mouse or small rodent. He adjusted his flashlight and turned it toward where he thought the sound was coming from but saw nothing.

And just like the rest of the house. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. Not only that, there was absolutely nothing alarming in the basement at all. It didn’t appear to have been a place where there were 11 people supposedly murdered. There was no table or chairs or candles. Harry imagined at least something that pointed to some people having been in there. But there was nothing.

The chill he felt when he first entered the house descended on him again. Only this time he felt it start from the top of his skull down to his toes. He turned the flashlight upward to check the ceiling, perhaps a vent was pulling cool air in, but it was just flat cement. The vent and connected pipes were across the room.

Harry cleared his throat and strained his eyes to follow the light but it was then he realized his flashlight was dimming slowly.

The scraping noise started again, this time from behind him. As he quickly turned toward the noise, which had grown louder and sounded like a metal chair being dragged across the damp cement flooring, his flashlight died.

Harry put his hands out and felt for the stair banister. He needed to get out of there. He’d have to wait for backup before getting deeper into the basement. His flashlight going out was his last straw.

When he found the banister, thankful for his natural sense of direction he gripped the metal and took one step at a time so he didn’t fall. He was shaky and his adrenaline was making his ears begin to ring.

But he was suddenly aware that the door to the basement was closed. He hadn’t heard the door shut but being that it was pitch black right where there should be some light coming in through the door, he knew someone had closed it.

And now the odd feeling he’d gotten on his way into the house, the chill, and the anxiety, had turned into something a lot like terror. He hastened his steps up the creaky wooden stairs and reached for his radio, pressing the call button over and over again to no avail. When he reached the landing and tried twisting the knob to open the door, it was jammed.

“Fuck!” He whispered to himself and continued yanking at the handle as he pressed the radio’s button to reach out to anyone.

“Fucking piece of shit!” He shoved the radio back into its loop and began to pound on the door, “Hey! An officer is locked in here! Hey!!”

Harry couldn’t think of a time he’d been so spooked in his life. He felt his life was in danger as he continued banging on the door and loudly calling to anyone who might have entered the house.

A whisper from his left had him swinging toward the noise. It sounded as if it had been whispered directly into his ear. He was in a full-on panic as he beat on the wooden door.

“Get out!” A guttural feminine scream came from behind him with a whoosh of air blowing around his body and toward the door. With a violent crack, the door blew open and Harry had never run so fast in his life as he darted into the kitchen and found the back door. The moment he stepped out into the backyard he saw Officer Davis and Lyle.

“Styles! You okay man?” Officer Lyle grasped him by his shoulders.

Harry was heaving breaths and, in that moment, felt as if he’d miraculously escaped death. Though he saw nothing, and most of what had happened would easily be brushed off by anyone he told, he was visibly frightened.

“Fuck. I don’t know. Something weird… I didn’t see anything. Just…” he caught his breath and shook his head, rethinking what he was going to say so they didn’t think he was insane, “House is clear but the basement might need a thorough search. My flashlight died down there so I couldn’t finish. I’m gonna go check on the girl.”

He was still shaking as he walked toward his squad car. The girl was sitting in the back of Danzel’s car with the door open and her feet out on the curb as he approached. Danzel was leaning his bottom into the hood of his car on his cell phone. He felt his heart rate pulsing heavily. Everything that had just happened was intense. Something he’d never forget.

He walked toward the pair at Danzel’s car and leaned down to look at Cooper.

“You’re white as a ghost,” the young lady spoke as she took in his face.

“The house is definitely creepy. But I didn’t see anything in any of the rooms.” He wanted to tell her more but he still hadn’t even wrapped his own mind around what had just happened.

“But surely you couldn’t have checked the whole house and all those rooms? You’ve only been gone for like,” she looked toward the clock on Danzel’s dash and pointed at it, “three minutes.”

Harry stood up and looked back at the house. Three minutes? How was that possible? He had been in there for at least 15 minutes checking and clearing each room.

“Something happened to you in there, didn’t it? To everyone outside of that house, you were only in there for three minutes. But to you, it must have felt like much longer.”

Harry nodded pensively but decided to not respond to her comment, “Just wait her a sec.”

He walked to the front of the car to follow up with Danzel before getting the fuck out of there. Danzel ended his call quickly, “See anything?”

Harry shook his head, “Nothing. But the house is definitely… it’s creepy.”

Danzel nodded and hummed, “You think she made it up?”

“I…” Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. “No. I don’t think she’s lying. I know this might sound crazy but some really weird shit happened to me in there just now. Things I don’t think I can really explain or wrap my mind around at this moment. But she’s really shaken up and I believe her. Plus we have 11 other names we can follow up on if they wind up missing.”

“But there are no bodies in the house? No blood or any weapons?”

Harry sighed and shook his head, “No. Nothing like that. I think this is something that you and I won’t be able to understand. Like…” he scratched the back of his neck, “… evil or some shit. Not that I believe in any of that, but… I don’t know.”

He noted that Danzel had given him a look of pause before pushing himself from the hood of his car, “Okay. Well, we’ll get her official statement. Once Davis and Lyle get out of there we’ll have someone back out and secure the door, make sure no one can enter easily.”

Harry nodded and waved at Danzel as he walked away before turning back once more to look at the girl. She wasn’t lying. There was nothing to back up what she had said but he knew something had happened.

Harry sat in his car for a moment taking deep breaths to calm himself. He needed a moment to breathe and collect himself. He closed his eyes and thought of Y/n. She always calmed him and made him feel safe and warm.

He picked up his cellphone and dialed her number. She picked up on the first ring.

“Baby? How are you?” He asked, already feeling better hearing her little hello when she answered the phone.

“Doing good. Just… Are you okay, Harry?” She always knew when he was upset somehow. He couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was in his voice? He didn’t know how she was so good at picking up his subtle changes but she was.

He opened his eyes and looked back at the house as he started up his car, “I’m okay. Just… Missed you. Wanted to hear your voice.”

He could hear her shuffling around, “Did something happen, baby? I’m worried–“

“I’m okay, Y/n. Just had a weird day. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”

Harry drove away from the house and felt his body settle and his mind quiet the further he got. He didn’t know if he’d ever tell anyone what happened in that house except for Y/n. She was the only one he felt safe to tell. She might not understand but he couldn’t say he even understood it himself. All he knew was that whatever was in that house was evil and there was nothing the whole police force could do to stop it.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @harrys-foxy @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @tswiftsangel

[prettymase]

I Can Do It Better

NOTES: Hi guys 🤭 it’s been a while and I can assure you I’m in a much better place now and was inspired to write after re reading my old fics. For now I’ll be posting my old fics and I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

WORD COUNT: 12.1k words

It was the first weekend you spent in Manchester. It felt a little odd adjusting to the new lifestyle in a new city where you barely knew anyone, it was going to take a while to get used to for sure but there was no one else you’d rather do it with.

The one person you sacrifice it all for

The reason you moved up here in the first place

The love of your life. Your boyfriend.

Mason Mount

Both of you are spending the evening in a restaurant in the city centre of Manchester with Mason’s new teammates alongside some of the WAGS.

You were nervous at first because you hadn’t met his new teammates properly yet apart from the England teammates, but meeting new people always made you anxious. It brought out the introvert in you, a side to you that you rarely showed anyone. What people think of you always matters to you because you’re a people’s pleaser and their first impression of you always matters, thinking about it made you feel sick. You wanted to make people believe that you were this confident, outgoing person but who were you to fool?

Even meeting the WAGS made you feel uneasy, everyone was either influencers or had their own businesses and then there was you, who had a basic 9-5 office job. Which there was nothing wrong with but it made you feel insecure about your relationship because you always thought in the back of your mind that you weren’t Mason’s type, no matter how many times he reassured you.

In terms of friendships, you also had a bad luck. You had a lot of fake friends since college, some of whom you had to cut off from your life because you didn't need toxic people in your life like that, no matter how much it hurt you, but you had to do it for the sake of your mental health.

You had a good few friends that you’d do anything for. But there was one where you’d just drop everything for at that second.

And that was your partner in crime, Sid.

From the beginning, this girl had been by your side all the way through. You could count on her to make your day ten times better, no matter what day it was, whether it was a bad day or a good day, she just knew how to make your day better.

It didn't take you long to figure out what you were going to do without her in Manchester. Because you were used to seeing her every day, you hadn't accepted that you had moved away from her and that she won't be a few minutes away from me, instead she will be a few hours away from me, but you didn't want to deal with it yet because you were used to seeing her every day and didn't want to accept that you had moved miles away from her.

You wanted to get through tonight without any problems.

You and Mason were the first people to get there surprisingly, because usually you were used to being late. The nerves were getting to you, Mason who was beside you in the waiting area had his arm around your waist, and another hand on your bare thigh silently comforting you.

As well as seeing Mason's nervousness, it was evident that it was a big deal for him, of course. He was meeting his teammates for the first time and was hoping that they'd all get along. You grabbed the hand that was on his thigh and started kissing his knuckles lightly just to show comfort and to give him reassurance that you were always there for him.

You put your arm around him, as he buried his face into your neck as his hand went to your bare back, “You okay?” You whispered, wanting to do your best to try and calm his nerves. As soon as he was about to reply both of your phones started going crazy with Twitter notifications, just to see that The Sun had posted a moment the two of you had a minute ago.

“Gosh, they’re quick aren’t they?” Mason laughed, making you laugh too.

You both had spent a few minutes before the rest of them had come, in that time a couple of his fans came up to him asking for a photo, which he couldn’t say no too.

The sight of him with fans always managed to melt your heart. He was just so gentle and caring with them. You heard one of the fans that had come up to him say that Mason was his role model and it made you so emotional and proud at the same time. The way Mason’s smile brightened when he heard that, it’s a sight you’d never get tired of seeing.

His smile is the most beautiful ever. The way his dimples come into place and his eyes crinkle with his smile. It’s just a little too perfect.

-

Once everyone had finally come and you got seated your nerves started to settle but your hands never left Mason’s squeezing it every so often. All of you had got seated into a private room so that they couldn’t get interrupted, which Mason was secretly thankful for. You were squeezed in between Mason on one side and Jadon on the other, with Anouska opposite you, which you were thankful for.

You had spoken to Anouska a few times when Mason played for England for the Euros and The World Cup. So you were pleased to see a familiar face as it brought you right back to your comfort zone.

While the lads were talking you, Anouska and a few of the WAGS who sat close to Anouska, were talking about girly stuff that satisfied all of us girlies.

You turned to your right to see Mason settling in slowly with his new teammates which settled your heart because that’s all you ever wanted to see.

After months of drama with Chelsea it was like he was slowly losing himself, you saw it first hand. It was heartbreaking to see, so the fact he’s got a fresh start with a new club and seeing him laugh made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

You missed the sound of his laugh so much. It was good to see him coming back to his normal self. It’s all you ever wanted for him. It’s what he deserved.

A while later, Jadon had started a conversation with you. You had known him since the England squad and he was a funny lad. Every time you spoke to him you know there was going to be a good few laughs.

“How’s you and your girl?” You asked, remembering that he had a girl then last time you spoke to each other.

“Oh. We broke up, she wasn’t ready for a relationship, she felt there was too much pressure,” Jadon sighed, you hated yourself to asking that, now that you felt bad.

“I’m sorry for asking, the right one will come along when the times right,” you said smiling softly at him.

“I think I’ve made my mind up anyways. I think you are the perfect woman I need,” Jadon said with a serious tone, your heart dropped, you didn’t want trouble with this teammates. You only have eyes for Mason.

“What?” You asked confusedly. He burst out laughing seeing your reaction.

“I’m joking man, I know you and Mase are practically married. It was just funny seeing your face,” Jadon chuckled.

“Oh shut up J,” You said rolling your eyes playfully as you stood up to go to the bathroom with Anouska and the girls, leaving the boys to their boy chat or whatever they were doing.

-

Mason was talking to Luke who was on the other side of him, when he heard you talking to Jadon. He felt a little jealous that you and him were getting a long well. He knew that you both were good friends from the past England tournaments, but seeing you laugh with him every five minutes made him uneasy to see you with another man. Mason wasn’t trying to be possessive or anything, Mason thought he was getting a bit too some for his liking but he shrugged it off. He had known you had eyes for him and him only.

Once you had gotten up to go to the bathroom, Jadon scooted over to your hair for the time being so he could speak to Mason as he hadn’t done the entire evening.

“You alright bro? I hardly had a chance to speak to you this evening, you settling in alright?” Jadon asked, cutting Mason’s conversation with Luke short.

“Yeah bro! It’s all good. It’s going to take time settling in properly, but me and Y/N will eventually get there. She’s been a big help.”

"Well if ever need anything, you know where me and the Manchester lads are. Speaking of Y/N, she's a good girl. Don't let her out of your sight, someone else might have eyes on her," Jadon winks, as he moves back on to his own chair.

“Sound bro,” Mason sounded annoyed but tried flashing it with a smile which could practically fool anyone. What he was thinking was a whole different story. He had enough questions and doubts in his brain, he tried brushing it off and trying to act as if he wasn’t bothered by which could possibly fool anyone. However, he knew it couldn’t fool you.

You could read him like a book.

-

Ever since you had come back from the bathroom, Mason’s mood was off and no matter how much he tried hiding it with that precious smile of his, you thought to ask about it there and then but you hesitated knowing that this wasn’t the time and place for it.

Walking to your seat, you squeezed Mason’s shoulder in comfort, as you went to sit down you could see Mason playing with his fingers, looking down in his lap while everyone else was talking, you wondered if he felt out of place that’s why his mood was off?

You put your hand on his thigh, smiling softly “Are you okay, Mase?” You asked, as you couldn’t take seeing your boyfriend in a mood.

“I’m okay babe,” he smiled back, bringing the hand that was on your thigh up to his mouth kissing your knuckles gesturing that he was grateful you asked. You don’t know why you asked because you knew what he’d say would be a lie, he’s never not said to you ‘I’m not fine’, previously you’ve had to force it out of him but tonight you didn’t question it any further as you thought there was a time and place for that, and at a restaurant with his new teammates ain’t the place to do that.

Throughout the whole night, he kept to himself, only replying when needed to, but his hand never left yours.

The drive back home was awfully silent. Normally Mason’s hand would be finding his way up your thigh, but today it was by his side or on the gearstick whenever needed to change the gears. He hadn’t given you a second look since you both had left the restaurant, which you found odd.

You wondered if you had done anything to piss him off?

If that was the case he would’ve been moody with you the whole night too right?

And what could’ve you possibly done?

As soon as you parked up to your new shared house, Mason went straight to the front door. Another thing you found odd as he always opened the passenger door for you no matter what.

Was this a coincidence or was he actually mad at you?

You thought you overthinking this whole thing more than you should be, so you decided to leave it.

As soon as you got inside you rapidly took your heels off, relieved that now you were out of them because your feet were in pain the whole night. You don’t know why you did this to yourself every time.

You walked into the kitchen with Mason slowly following you behind. You got yourself a glass of water and while you were drinking it Mason came up behind you, his chest pressing against your back, moving your hair to the side, his arms gripping onto your waist and his head dipping into the crook of your neck, peppering light kisses on your sweet spot. You squirmed slightly because his stubble was tickling you, "you looked out of this world tonight, baby. You're mine. Mine only. Nobody else's. You're my girl." Mason started to get frustrated at how Jadon's words from earlier kept replaying in his mind at this specific moment. Mason couldn't help but get slightly overprotective and possessive over you. He knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt him but still he couldn't help his insecurities that got to the better of him.

“What’s gotten into you, Mase?” You playfully laughed at how his mood changed when you had entered your new home. Mason had ignored you and carried on kissing the crook of your neck just where your sweet spot is.

He knows what he’s doing

You had turned around to face him, causing him to stop with a little pout on his face. “Talk to me, bubs,” you softly spoke, his head down, grabbing your fingers to play with them that had settled him. He felt a little silly for what’s going to come out of his mouth next, but he needed to ask to reassure his doubts and insecurities. “Is there something going on between you and Jadon? You can be honest, I won’t be mad, I just want you to be honest with me,” you were taken back by his comments, how could he think that? You had no idea where this was coming from. “What? No!! Why would you even think that, Mase?” You asked a little surprised that out of all people Mason would think that.

“You can’t blame me for thinking that, you two looked a bit too close for my liking. You were laughing at everything he was saying, you never laugh at my jokes like that,” Mason raised his tone slightly, what Jadon had said to him earlier got into his head.

“Really, Mase? Is this what it’s all about? Not laughing at your jokes? He’s just a funny lad that’s all.” You looked down at your kitchen tiles, not wanting to look at him in the face right now.

“Does funny make you cum?” You shot your head up at that question, meeting your face with Mason’s rather serious face with his eyebrows raised.

“Mason, you’re staring to sound ridiculous now. Do I need to prove how much I love you? I thought moving here with you was enough to prove that.” The last sentence had just slipped out, you didn’t mean to sound like you were doing him a favour by moving here with him.

That felt like a slap in Mason’s face hearing that last sentence come out of your mouth, he was beyond pissed now.

When it was announced that Mason was leaving Chelsea and was starting his new life at Manchester United, Mason had sat you down and had asked you what you’d want to do, whether that was moving to Manchester with him or staying in London.

He had never put any pressure on you knowing that all your family and friends lived in London, he didn’t want you to regret moving in the future, so he let you take your time with deciding what you wanted.

What Mason wanted was a different story, he wanted you to move with him, but he didn’t want it to seem like you had to move with him, because the last thing he’d want is making it seem like you were doing him a favour by moving here.

And that’s exactly what you did.

“I NEVER FUCKING ASKED YOU TO DO THAT!!” Despite having a stern tone, Mason’s angry expression could be clearly seen through the tone of his voice.

“YEAH BECAUSE YOU NEVER NEEDED TO, I FOLLOWED YOU UP HERE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, I DON’T EVER WANT ANYONE ELSE!” You said frustratedly, trying to prove to him that he’s the only one you want so when he made that accusation it hurt you deeply.

“YEAH, IT FUCKING LOOKED LIKE IT WHEN YOU HAD JADON HANGING OFF YOU ALL NIGHT!!” Mason couldn’t help but roll his eyes which annoyed you even further.

“OH FUCK YOU MASE, YOU’RE BEING SUCH A CHILD”

“OH FUCK ME, YEAH?”

“YEAH, FUCK YOU!!”

Mason rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t be arsed to deal with this anymore, so you went past him shoving his shoulder lightly, “I’m not dealing with this right now, I’m going up to bed,” you said to Mason as you walked out of the kitchen.

Mason grabbed your wrist and pulled you abruptly towards him, his grasp on your waist turned firm. His gaze bore into yours as his lips met yours in a fervent kiss. With no opportunity to catch your breath, the fervour of the kiss increased as Mason pressed you up against the kitchen door. The passionate kisses escalated as neither of you wanted to part.

You feel Mason passionately bringing his lips back to yours as you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck as he trails his lips to your collarbone. He mumbles jump against your skin as your heart races and your breathing quickens. His grip on your waist tightens even more than it was as he pushed your body against the cold wall.

You slightly start to grind against him clothed bulge desperately wanting to feel him, throwing your head back while Mason’s lips trail across your jaw and down your neck, nibbling in your sweet spot as he holds you tight. Now sucking on your sweet spot as he couldn’t help himself, you know a mark will be left there in the morning but right now you don’t care. You moan not being able to hold it in anymore, Mason pulls back to look at you, “those moans are only for me, do you understand that sweetheart?” The tone in his voice is deep, the look in his eye is quite dark, with a cocky expression on his face.

He was enjoying being in control way too much

He threw you over his shoulder and carried you upstairs to your shared bedroom, so he can have his way with you.

“Y/N, you’ve been a tease all night. Now this whole neighbourhood is going to hear you scream my name tonight, they’re all going to know you’re mine,” he growled with an air of dominance.

Mason wasted no time in stripping your clothes off

You shivered, nodding. He smirked, as he threw you onto the bed, now that you’re both naked you never got used to the sight of seeing Mason naked, you were speechless everytime, your eyes went straight to his boxers which he hadn’t taken off yet. Mason smirked cockily at your reaction, “Oh so now you want me, eyes up here sweetheart,” he smiled, before hovering over you and tipped your chin up so you could look at him in the eyes, looking into those lust eyes knowing how much he wants you fuck you right now, “get on your all fours for me, baby.” Mason winked, as you just got lost in his eyes before Mason spoke again “baby, I really don’t want to have to ask again,” which brought you back to reality and did what he said.

He wasn’t one to be reckoned with when he was like this

territorial & jealous

“Jadon said you were a good girl, but good girls go flirting around with other people do they?” He breathed, showing his jealous side which you quite clearly enjoyed seeing him like this.

“So that makes you a naughty girl, my naughty girl.”

He gave your ass a little slap, watching it bounce from the impact with a satisfied smirk. You flinched but you secretly loved how rough her was being, “this is what naughty girls deserve.”

Mason quickly stripped out of his boxers, rolling a condom onto his thick, throbbing erection, before lining himself up at your entrance and shoving it in abruptly. Causing you to gasp at the sudden burning. The burning quickly subsided as you adjusted to Mason’s size, still to this date you never got used to his size. He started thrusting fast and furiously, tugging on your hair and making you lift your head so he could leave hot, wet kisses on the side of your neck.

You grunted with each thrust, trying to hold yourself up as your arms weakened in pleasure, but it didn’t stop Mason. He pounded into you with all of his anger, all of his jealousy, all of his possessiveness. “You’re such a slut, flirting with my friends,” Mason adds, slapping your ass once again. You absolutely loved this side of him, already soaring towards your release. Loud moans and screams left your lips, his name falling from them like a prayer. Your whole body shook, and the headboard against the wall sounded like thunder from his forcefully it was rocking. Mason pulled you up on your knees, so your bodies were fully flesh against each other, but he didn’t slow down.

“You like that, sweetheart? You like my cock buried inside your sweet little pussy? I bet Jadon couldn’t fuck you like this?”Mason growled.

“No, just you,” you managed to choke out, dangerously close to your climax.

“Say it again, who makes you feel this good?” He demanded, his cockiness getting to him.

“You, Mase, only you!!” You cried out, orgasm crashing over you and Mason released at the same time as you, both of you sharing an intimate moment together.

You lay there breathless, and Mason parted your legs again.

“Mase?” You asked, trying to get your breath back.

“When you can’t walk tomorrow, I want you to remember how good my cock was inside you and how good my tongue is,” he grinned deviously

His tongue darted inside you, and you groaned in ecstasy, still sensitive from the rough fucking he’d just given you. He slipped two fingers inside you, pumping in and out quickly and mercilessly as his tongue worked magic on your clit, almost immediately bringing you to your second orgasm of the night.

Mason spent all night pleasuring you in multiple ways and by the time he was finished, you were completely exhausted. You couldn’t even move and your clit kept throbbing, your legs twitching from time to time.

Mason lazily left a soft kiss along the already formed hi keys on your skin. He smiled against your lips and then laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, so now your head was on his chest.

“You did so good, baby. You took it all like a pro,” he. complimented.

“Mhmm… Hey, Mase. i just want to say I’m sorry-” you smiled, trying to apologise but you looked confused when he stopped you when he put his finger over your lips.

“Ah no, if anything I should be apologising to you, I’m sorry my doubts got to the better of me,” you smiled as he placed a kiss on your lips.

Mason chuckled as you quickly fell asleep in his arms, listening to him whisper how beautiful you are, how glad he was that you were his, and he doesn’t know what he did in life to get you. He truly felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Mason looked over at your sleeping figure, and thinking about the day when you both first met, how he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the crowd, effortlessly beautiful and how you’d never change anything from that day. It was the most perfect moment.

He was so thankful that his best friend and your best friend who joint heads together and set you two up, otherwise he wouldn’t be here where he was now.

-

Two years ago, you had met Mason during the EURO 2020, Sid had practically dragged you out of the house to watch the match, she was supporting her boyfriend Ben Chilwell, and you were actually off work for a change.

All you wanted to do was catch up on a Netflix series you had started watching but your best friend had other plans as soon as she’d known you were free. You hadn’t seen her in a few days and for you two that’s quite a while without seeing each other because you two at least see each other once a day, it would be nice to see her but just not a at a football match.

You weren’t interested in sports, you were clueless to even think about what was happening apart from the obvious points, that they have go get the ball in the opposite goals. In all honesty you found it boring, you once tried watching a football match at home with Sid and you fell asleep. Hence why you weren’t excited about this match.

You shoved on an England t- shirt you had from ages and paired it with ripped jeans, your hair loosely curled and you went for a natural make up look which consists of, a face tint, tiny bit of concealer to cover your horrendous eye bags, cream contour and cream blush, brown mascara to make it look more natural, laniege lip mask with a tiny bit of brown lip liner and you finished it off with the Charlotte Tilbury setting spray to lock it all in so it could last the whole day.

Once you had arrived at the stadium, you walked down to your seats which were the best in the whole stadium, that was the only good thing about Sid being a WAG. Even so, apart from the occasional teasing, you were happy that she found someone who cares for her and makes her happy.

It would be nice if you could look a bit more lively, don't you think?” Sid said as she settled down into her chair and started to get comfortable. As a response, you simply glared at her, knowing you'd rather be in bed right now, but you couldn't do anything besides try to enjoy the game now that you were here despite the fact that you'd prefer to be in bed.

—

Mason was warming up when he spotted you, he got lost in thought and didn’t hear what Benwas saying to him, “helloooo earth to Mase,” he snapped his fingers in front of his face that brought him back to reality.

“What got you into dreamland, you were looking over at the box? It better not be my missus,” Ben said, getting protective over his girl. Mason raised his eyebrow, “what no?! I’m happy for you two mate I wouldn’t get in the way of you two. I was wondering who’s next to her, I never seen her before,” Mason replied, his cheeks turning pink.

“Aww, does Masey have a little crush,” Ben teased, making Mason laugh and playfully push him. “Nah mate. It’s not like that, I was just wondering who she was that’s all,” Mason cheekily smiled. “The slight blush on your cheeks says something else,” Mason glared at him as he still didn’t answer Mason’s question, “Alright alright! She’s Sid’s best friend, she rarely comes out of her house, hence why you haven’t seen her.” Mason just nodded before getting back to warming up.

Ben wasn’t wrong, you were a homebody as you liked to call it. You just enjoyed being in the comfort of your own home, there was just nothing else like it. What also didn’t help is that you were a massive introvert, you only spoke to people you knew comfortably so if anyone came up to you in public and asked you something you’d panic because quite frankly you didn’t know how to hold a conversation, you found it always being awkward and you hated the atmosphere and working from home didn’t help your communication skills. You thought you were getting social anxiety but you didn’t want to self diagnose yourself.

Mason, however, couldn’t keep his eyes off you. It’s like his eyes kept automatically directing him up to where you were sitting. He thought you were one of the most beautiful women he’s laid eyes on, the way your hair elegantly fell into place without even trying, and your smile? He thought he fell in love at first sight.

He knew you were different.

Different from other girls.

As soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew that you would be a genuine person, and he wasn't sure how to explain it, but he knew deep within his heart that he had to find out just for himself whether or not this was true.

After the match, he followed Ben was going to see his girlfriend, he was excited to see you up close. If you had looked good from far away, he bet that you’d look even more attractive up close.

And he was right

You looked even better up close if that was even possible

—

While the match was going on you couldn’t help but keep your eyes focused on the number 19, your eyes followed everywhere he went. You couldn’t help but admire the way he was playing and you had no clue about the sport.

There was one moment that would stay engraved in your brain, he got angry at a player and started swearing at him. You didn’t know if it was normal to feel like this, you started to daydream a fantasy you thought that would never happen. You hadn’t thought you were daydreaming until Sid snapped her fingers to get you back into the zone.

“Is someone starting to form a crush,” she said playfully wiggling her eyebrows, and you brushed it off like it was nothing, “pfft no, you know me and crushes never went well,” there was truth in what you said.

You’d always find yourself crushing on someone who would never look twice at you, that was the sad reality and with Mason Mount who’s a premier league footballer, there was no chance he’d even take a look at me.

“Well this could go well, if someone puts a word in?”

You eyes went wide, shaking your head, “You dare and I’ll hate you forever,” you say sternly, you didn’t want to make the first move. In your head if someone had their eyes on you, they should make the move instead of you making the first move.

That way you don’t embarrass yourself.

So if Mason did ever have feelings for you, which you doubted, he should make the first move. Besides the fact that now he’s on the pitch playing, he could make a move after if he ever did have feelings.

You spent another 45 mins practically drooling over him. That was until after the game you could see him and Chilly, Sid’s boyfriend walking to the pair of you. You felt panic wash over you.

You turned to Sid with a panicky expression, “omg he’s coming over, what do I say? How do I act? Do I look fine?” You had a load of questions.

“First of all my love, relax. I thought you didn’t have a crush on him?” You glare at her because now was not the time. “Okay, Okay! You look perfect as always, and don’t think of what to say, let the conversation flow naturally. That way is always the best,” she gives you a heartwarming smile.

You didn’t think someone could look so perfect up close but that was the case with Mason.

You were really deep into this and you hadn’t even chatted to him.

You don’t know why you were panicking because you two hit it off really well, you did as Sid said and let the conversation flow and it did you wonders because you managed you bag yourself a date.

-

One date turned into two dates, two dates turned into three etc, 3 months into the relationship you became his girlfriend, 6 months in you said your ‘I love yous’ and the rest became history.

-

He didn’t know how he got so lucky to have you but he’d forever be thankful for God for sending you into his life. You’d been there for him for the toughest moments in his life. He’s forever appreciative of you.

masonmount added to their story

You are my one in 7 Billion! 🤍

declanrice replied: still two years later you are actually whipped bro

*masonmount liked this message*

-> masonmount: there’s no way I’d rather have it and you can’t talk, you are just as bad 👊🏻🤣

-

He laughed at Declan’s message as it had come through in his notifications, he wasn’t wrong in what he said. Him and Declan used to dream of the day settling down with their person, their forever, and it feels like it’s finally happening and he couldn’t be more glad. If he was called whipped so be it, if it makes you happy that’s all he wanted.

Our relationship was nowhere near perfect as no relationship is, and tonight was a good example of it. However no matter how many times you two had disagreements and at the time didn’t see the good side of things, Mason always thought that arguing would somewhat make the connection stronger.

He lifted his head slightly to look at your sleeping figure, trying not to move too harshly as he didn’t want to wake you up, you looked too comfortable and adorable to move. He placed multiple light kisses on your temple. He took one deep look at you, smiled to himself thinking how he was so lucky to have you and how he’s so in love with you and he wouldn’t change that for the world.

You were his forever and he was yours.

He finally drifted off to sleep, feeling content and safe. His worries were forgotten, and his mind was at ease. With a peaceful expression on his face, he slept with a huge grin on his face.

The next morning you woke up to Mason staring at you lovingly, his smile reaching his eyes and his dimples fell into place, even in the mornings he looked so effortlessly handsome.

“Morning handsome,” you kissed him softly as you greeted him good morning. He smiled at you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You both held each other for a moment, taking in the peacefulness of the morning. You felt a warmth inside your chest that could only be described as love.

Mason smiled down at you, his voice still thick with sleep, “good morning beautiful,” he murmured as you just smiled at him, giving him a soft kiss on his lips and he dips his head into your neck.

You stayed in bed for a little while he was placing kisses every so often whether that was on your forehead, neck or the side of your head. You had to get up soon though because Mason had training and you wanted to make him breakfast before he left.

The two of you had breakfast together, enjoying every second of it until he had to say his goodbyes giving you a kiss before he left.

While he was gone you decided to call your best friend, Sid, because she was coming down to Manchester to see you. You had dinner booked in the evening which you couldn’t wait for, because it felt like an eternity since you saw her.

The day had gone by so quick as you were mostly cleaning the whole day but the time had come to get ready for this evening.

You had to rush because you hadn’t been keeping on an eye on the time and you hated yourself for it because you wanted to take your time to get ready and actually feel good for once and whenever you tend to rush you always end up not liking your makeup and then your mood gets ruined but you were convinced no one can ruin your mood because you were off to see your bestfriend and that put you in a good mood.

You were originally going to get a taxi but Mason being the gentleman he is offered to drop you off which worked for you but you didn’t want to bother him because of his long day at training.

-

You think you actually screamed when you saw Sid, running up to hug her which you hadn’t done in almost two weeks, you felt emotional being reunited again. No one told you how hard it was going to be with now a long distance bestie.

You caught up on each others gossip, on what you had missed and catching up on daily life.

When the two of you were younger you both dreamed of being a footballers girlfriend, you don’t know why but the thought of it sounded so appealing,

“Toast to our younger selves who would be so proud of us right now.” Sid said, putting both of your glasses up to raise a toast. Which you cheered to, for once you felt happy about where you were in life right now. The fact that both you and Sid were happy together made the feeling even more special.

We were both where we needed to be in life and you were so glad.

-

yourusername added to their story

Dinners with my girl @sid.vii 🥰🤭

sid.vii replied to your story: I love and miss you already ☹️💘

-> a few hours wasn’t enough. I love you and miss you loads 😩💕

masonmount replied to your story: the two of you are trouble when you’re together. p.s you look beautiful 🤩

-> 😉 love you 💘

sanchooo10 replied to your story: you look beautiful! 😻

-> Thank you!

-

You and Sid had shared a taxi back to her hotel before the driver made another stop to take you back home. It was originally your intention for her to stay at yours and masons shared house, but she was being a bit stubborn and booked a hotel room in the hotel for the two nights instead of staying at your house. She had a train booked back to London early morning so you didn’t want to stay out too late either because both of you loved your sleep too much.

You didn’t know when you’d see her again and you hated the circumstances for being this way but you were also grateful that Mason was happy and that’s all that mattered to you. You can’t lie, you felt a little emotional saying goodbye to her, even you’d text every second of the day, there was nothing like seeing your friends in real life.

You smiled at her interaction at your story. Although you found it weird that Jadon had replied to your story but brushed it off thinking that he was being friendly with you and replied because you didn’t want to seem rude.

Part of you didn’t know whether to mention this to Mason or not, considering you had an argument about it the other day. You didn’t want to have any arguments today, you just wanted to go home and cuddle with the love of your life.

As soon as you got home all you wanted was Mason, you had missed him even though it was a quarter of the night you hadn’t seen him.

You found him in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a blanket on him, on his phone scrolling while the tv was on in the background not being looked at, just there for the noise. He hadn’t noticed you had come back until you stood in front of him, he peered up to look at you through his lashes, “hey you. You have a good night?” Mason asks while moving the blanket and patting his hand on his knee indicating you to sit on his lap.

You felt yourself go soft at the sight of him, it was quite cold out there so all you wanted to do was to cuddle up against him while you fall asleep in the warmth of his arms around you the whole night.

“I did. it was nice seeing Sid again after two weeks, that seems like a long time I’ve gone without her and it feels weird to say because we are normally joined by the hip,” you said a little deflated as got comfortable on his lap.

“That’s good! As you long you enjoyed yourself baby!” Mason said enthusiastically as he moves your hair to the side leaving your right shoulder bare for him to kiss. You had given him a rundown on what happened the entire evening and he every so often lifted his head up from your neck to kiss your forehead in a soft gesture.

That was until you stopped talking to see he had fallen asleep and because you didn’t want him to ruin his sleep downstairs you gently woke him up, “Mase, go to bed. I’ll be up once I’ve make sure everything’s locked,” you said before getting off his lap and going to the front door to make sure it was locked.

When you had come back to the living room, you’d seen that he had listened and went up to bed, before you went up you went to check all the windows were locked too.

You always had to double check it was locked otherwise god forbid if anything was to happen, the blame would have landed on you. You felt yourself shudder thinking about it.

As you had entered your shared bedroom, you flopped on the bed feeling exhausted after the day you had. Mason was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed.

Once you looked up to see he was done, he was standing there completely shirtless and in boxers, still to this day you never got used to this image that was in front of you. You felt like you were gazing in dreamland, with a a lttle drool coming by the side of your mouth. You didn't realise you had zoned out until he spoke, "take a picture, it will last longer," he winked.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, as you got off the bed to go to the en suite to take off your makeup. You took off your lashes which felt like a relief taking them off, and grabbed your cleansing balm to melt your makeup off, to finally be make up free.

Your phone buzzed which was on the bed where you were laying a few minutes ago, so you told Mason to check it

You and Mason trusted each other with your phones, it’s not like either of you had anything to hide.

His heart had dropped with what he saw. He had a million questions running through his mind right now.

Why was he messaging you?

What were you two speaking about?

He had thought the worst by a single notification.

Mason stayed quiet while his mind was thinking overtime, he was wondering whether to mention this to you or if he should stay silent and wait to see if you say something.

You entered back in the bedroom done with your nighttime routine, getting into bed where Mason was sat, his head resting on the headboard.

“Who was the notification from?” You asked him as you got comfortable in your bed. He didn’t respond, he just handed you the phone with an unimpressed expression. You just looked down to see that Jadon had liked your message.

“Oh,” you mumble silently

“Did you forget to tell me or were you even planning on telling me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Mase, you’re overreacting! If you looked at the messages you’d realise it’s nothing!” You raise your voice a little because you were tired of arguing over the same thing.

“Oh? I’m overreacting? Me!!” Mason matches the same tone as yours.

“C’mon Mase, actually read the messages,”

“No, I’ve seen what I’ve needed to, that’s enough!”

You try to hand your photo to him while unlocking your phone to show him the full chat, but he wasn’t having it. He pushed your arm away. He had to exhale before he said the next sentence.

“Listen if you don’t want to be with me, you can just tell me outright. You don’t have to go behind my-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” You interrupted him. You were tired of going round in circles and ending up in the same place. You thought after yesterday he would’ve understood that you only want him.

“Do I need to prove how much I love you? If I didn’t I wouldn’t have wanted to start a new life with you up here, moving with you.”

There it was again

Bringing up the move constantly after every argument.

He looked at you deep in the eye, eyes filled with tiredness and anger, not only he was tired about having to argue about this whole situation about million times but he also felt insecure every time this was brought up.

“Do you need to fucking bring up the move every time? I’m so grateful that you moved up here with me but I don’t need you throwing that comment in my face every time. As well as you i’ve left everything back in London too. You don’t need to make this about you 24/7!!” Mason snapped

He regretted that comment right after it was said, he got off the bed and rushed looking for his top.

“I need fresh air, I’m going for a walk to clear my mind.” Mason says rushing out of the bedroom quickly putting his top on, by the time you were about to speak, it was almost too late as you heard a loud slam from the door.

-

He always thought you were almost too perfect to be with him. Out of his league. Thinking that you could do so much better than him. He had trauma and doubts from his previous relationship, which was what left him with the doubts.

He felt the cold breeze of air hit him while he took a walk around his quiet estate. He didn’t know where he was walking but he just carried on to see where his feet take him.

Remembering what went wrong in his previous relationship to help save this one, he felt like your relationship was failing and the last thing he wanted to do was to lose you.

You meant the world to him and he couldn’t risk losing you and he was so appreciative that you wanted to move up with him, but he didn’t need you constantly nagging at him like you’ve done a massive favour.

It doesn’t count as a favour when it’s for the people you love

Even thinking about it made him feel sick

It was about three years ago when he met his ex Molly, which he met at a club, mistaking her for someone else. They had hit it off straightaway. During the night Mason thought that he had found his partner for life already, which was obviously wrong but he had the wrong first impressions of her.

They had decided to go out for a date and take it from there to see how it goes. It went great, or so he thought.

He decided to give this girl a chance as she seemed genuine and didn’t seem like the girl to fuck about.

Look can be deceiving

It was about 3 months into the relationship, it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. In fact it wasn’t at all. During the first month he noticed on his free days she’d rather spend time with her girl mates and if that wasn’t an option she’d make some sort of excuse.

She was in for one thing only

Fame

Molly obviously knew who Mason was the second they started talking, her and her friends and come up with a cunning plan. All Molly wanted to become was an influencer, so she took the chance and took it. She thought if she’d act like she’s interested in him, it would get her the followers she’d need and then once she’d have enough, she’d come up with a sob story to say this isn��t working.

In her little world things were going well for her until one afternoon Mason was home earlier than she had expected and the night before she had stayed over his after a night out because it was closer to him. Once Mason had stepped into his house, he was eager to see his girlfriend. They were in the ‘honeymoon’ stage so they are bound to be excited, well at least one of them.

As soon as he got closer to his bedroom door where Molly was, he heard her over the phone talking to one her friends what it sounded like. “Yeah babe, he won’t find anything out. Bless him he thinks I actually like him,” that was the sentence that broke him.

Molly’s true intentions were revealed and he hated how he fell into this trap.

Once Mason had found out what Molly’s plans were, he wasted no time in telling her to get the fuck out of his house and his life.

To say Mason was devastated was an understatement, he kept thinking about how he lets people in so easily, this whole situation got him feeling shit and insecure.

He promised himself that he wouldn’t trust someone so easily again.

However no matter how shit his past was, he should've never treated you like that. He made a promise to not let his insecurities get to the better of him. No matter how bad the situation is and you two should just talk like grown adults you are. He knew you were tired of this bullshit too.

This late night walk did his mind wonders, he saw a Tesco nearby and decided to pop in to get you some flowers to help lighten the mood as you both didn’t help by all the shouting. Sometimes leaving your mind alone to think works magic and gives you time to reflect on what you both could’ve said to handle the situation better, but in this heat of the moment things get said which you both regret.

As he walked into the shared house, he rushed upstairs with the flowers in his hand ready to give them to you, he was praying that you hadn’t gone to sleep because he was told not to sleep on an argument as the next day wasn’t guaranteed.

He walked into to your shared bedroom only to be met with an empty bed. There was only one other place he thought you could be.

The guest bedroom

In previous house together, whenever the two of you would get into a heated argument, Y/N would always go to the guest bedroom indicating that she needs space before the argument gets pretty ugly.

And that’s exactly what she needed tonight

He couldn’t blame you

He needed to stop letting his past get to him so easily, just because one person made him feel easy doesn’t mean that you’d be the same. In fact he knew you wouldn’t do the same.

Maybe he needed to tell you to help overcome the doubts that he had and that it would make you understand why he’s like this.

-

After Mason had left furiously, slamming the door behind, you had guilt inside of you. You should’ve told him even if it was a minor thing, you didn’t want to be the one that kept secrets from him.

You wanted him to trust you

But also him accusing you of talking to other people when you’re happier than you’ve ever been with him deeply hurt you because you had thought better of him, and you didn’t think he’d stoop that low to accuse you of something like that.

Both of you were in the wrong

You needed to find a way to communicate with each other better.

You went to sleep in the guest bedroom, you thought it would the best thing you both needed, just a night alone away from each other to clear each others minds

Sleep wasn’t coming easy to you, you were tossing and turning every few minutes, your mind at unease because you wanted to know where Mason was, ‘when’s he coming back?’

These questions didn’t stop spiralling in your head, you began to overthink as time went on, such as ‘what if he’s had enough and wants to break up with you?’ which then went to ‘you don’t know how to manage life without him’

It sounds stupid but you didn’t know how to cope without him

It wasn’t long until tears started forming in the corner of your eyes, the more you imagined life without him you convinced yourself that wouldn’t ever heal. Tears now rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow.

A short while after your little breakdown, the guestroom door creaked opened and you obviously it’s going to be Mason so you pretended to be asleep but Mason knew you too well, he knew well enough that you weren’t asleep.

Mason crouched down to the side you were sleeping on, he noticed the dried tear tracks on your face straight away, he hated seeing you upset anyway but knowing he possibly made you cry broke his heart.

He didn’t ever want to be the reason for your tears and he promised you from the start that he’ll always keep you happy but he had failed you.

The flowers now sitting on the bedside table unnoticed. Mason pushed your hair out of your face ever so gently, caressing your cheek.

“C’mon baby, I know you’re not sleep. I think you forget I know you too well.” He chuckled a little to ease the tension

You smiled lightly at his comment and fluttered your eyes open, meeting your eyes with his beautiful lust eyes. He smiled at the sight of you “there’s my beautiful girl.”

You couldn’t help but blush almost forgetting about what happened in the last hour.

“I think we should talk,” Mason’s tone sounded desperate, he felt sorrowful. Your heart had dropped on the tone of his voice, you thought this was it.

He’s going to break up with you.

Mason noticed your mood change when he spoke, he got himself from the crouched position and sat himself on the side of the bed gently moving your legs so he could sit properly and comfort you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, pulling you up and embracing you with his arms around you. “Nothing” your voice had cracked, as you weren’t sure if you could say more without crying. You hid yourself in his neck, your shaking shoulders gave it away, he clung onto you tighter rubbing your back to comfort you.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He spoke softly kissing the side of your head every now and then

“Don’t leave me,” you thought you were overreacting but you didn’t know what he was going to come out with.

“Where has that come from? What makes you think I’m going to leave you? Do you know how much you mean to me? I could never live a day without you, you’re my forever baby,” he felt himself choke on the last sentence, even thinking about leaving made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you want to talk to me about then?” You sniffed, feeling stupid that he wanted to speak to you about something else, making a fool out of yourself for no reason.

“I wanted to tell you something. The main reason why I have doubts and feel insecure when you’re talking to other men. I know I shouldn’t have any right to say anything when you don’t have any problem with me talking to women. It should work both ways, so this is fair.”

As he took a deep breath, he recounted the story of how he met Molly and how things went down from the beginning to the end. To say that you were angry would be a major understatement. How could somebody even have the audacity to be so blatant about treating someone like this? It had angered you to find out that she had treated your man in such a way. Your anger was bubbling up inside of you, but on your face was a soft expression as you were trying to comfort him, as you could tell it was still hurting him. It’s like he was traumatised by this and you couldn’t blame him.

This girl seemed like a massive bitch by her actions, if you had ever crossed paths with her you would make sure she be sorry for being a bitch. You were deeply hurt the fact that she made Mason feel like this.

“Every time I look at you, I just think god I must have done something right to gain an angel like you, I don’t deserve you.” Mason’s voice cracked, trying to blink away the tears and it tore you apart seeing him like this. He’s been through enough already.

“Woah, you gotta stop there bub. Don’t you dare say anything bad about yourself, because you’re truly the best thing that happened to me. I’m so grateful Sid managed to drag me out of the house and go to the match otherwise we wouldn’t have crossed paths. You have a heart of gold, you’re so self less. You put other people first when it should be the other way babe. Put yourself first! People who take advantage of you don’t deserve in the fucking slightest. If I ever meet this bitch she’d better run because she doesn’t know what’s coming. I’d have to get the big guns out,” you tried to lighten the situation and it worked because he gave you a smile that will always make you weak in the knees.

“I think even if you didn’t go to the match we would’ve still found our way to each other because we’re meant to be. You are my forever,” he says ever so proudly with his eyes twinkling.

“I love you!”

“I love you too, so much!”

The two of you spent a few minutes appreciating each others presence in comfortable silence, placing a few kisses on each other. It was only then you realised the flowers that were sitting on the bedside table, you looked at him in surprise, “you got these for me?” you questioned.

“Oh shit I forgot to give you them,” he slapped his forehead in playful manner which made you giggle. “But yes I did baby, it’s been a while since I got you flowers,” you heart warmed at the gesture.

“Just when I thought I couldn’t get anymore luckier,” you blushed. Mason just smiled, giving you a kiss on the lips as a response.

You two spent the whole night like that, curled up with your head on his chest while his hands rested under your shirt, his fingers stoking up and down your stomach.

Holding each other close the whole night.

-

It had been a few days since that night and you were going out tonight Mason and his teammates.

Over the last few days, you two just decided to get off whatever was on your chest so you two could start fresh with the move and everything.

You had agreed to block Jadon too, after what Mason told you what he said to him the other night. You didn’t feel comfortable talking to him anymore.

Tonight he was going to be there too which is going to be awkward but with Mason by your side you’re sure you’ll get through it.

So here you were, sat in a dim restaurant waiting for the food you ordered a few minutes ago. Mason placed his hand on your thigh and you didn’t think much of it until it had started wandering up your thighs and under your dress. “Keep quiet,” he whispered, smiling innocently giving the impression that you two were talking about something ordinary.

“Mason, behave,” you replied, glaring at him slightly as your cheeks heat up at the feeling of his fingertips on your inner thigh.

“Seeing as he can’t keep his eyes off you, he deserves to know what’s mine and what he’ll only ever dream off,” Mason said with a smirk on his face.

It was evident to a bird that Jadon had his eyes on you since you walked in with Mase, at first glance you thought it was a friendly thing but the more you saw him glancing at you the more you felt slightly uncomfortable. You were grateful to have Mason by your side even though he was good at teasing you.

He began touching you through the fabric of your underwear, gently pressing his hand against your groin, which made you flinch and if you hadn’t been in public, you would’ve gasped.

Mason turned back to his teammates, engaging in their conversation while acting like nothing happened. The moment he pushed your underwear to the side and started rubbing your clit in circular motions you reflexively clenched your legs together, but Mason was quick to spread your legs again.

You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your hardest to hold back a moan when he inserted two fingers and slowly pumped them in and out while caressing your clit with his free fingers. He kept doing this at a steady slow pace that he knew drove you crazy every time he chose to give you an even more intense feeling by not speeding it up like you wanted.

Just when it was getting even more difficult to not make a sound, Mason directed a question at you, knowing full well that you weren’t able to speak without making ungodly noises that would get you all kicked out from this restaurant before you even got your food. You glared at your boyfriend because he knew what he was doing and it was frustrating you, if only you could let him have his way with you right here.

Mason smirked and continued moving his fingers around your clit, speeding up just a little, “ Are you okay, Y/N?” Luke asked slightly worried.

You simply nodded and forced yourself to smile, pretty sure that if you spoke now, you couldn’t pull yourself together. Since Mason started, he didn’t shown any sign of excitement or shame whatsoever, joking around with his teammates like everything was normal, as if he wasn’t fingering you under the table. He curled his fingers to massage your sensitive spot, all while keeping a straight face.

You breathing got heavier as you were getting closer and closer to your climax, but all of a sudden Mason pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging before you could reach your orgasm. The moment you realised he wasn’t going to finish you off, you reached down, ready for the job yourself, but grabbed your wrist and gave you an assertive look, silently telling you to wait.

You cleared your throat before excusing yourself from the table, squeezing your thigh to signal him to follow you inconspicuously, pushing your chair back to stand up and walking in direction to the bathrooms.

A few minutes later, he came in with a cheeky grin on his face after he closed the door behind him. You crashed your lips into his, kissing him forcefully as you couldn’t wait anymore.

“Fucking finish what you started,” you muttered as you broke away. Mason kneeled on the floor, pushing your underwear down and pushing your dress up so he can get a full view of you.

He grips you by the hips and then cranes his neck forward to kiss and lick between your thighs, tongue gliding between the folds of your pussy, in a way that makes you ache for him even more desperately.

You pull him up to stand, so you can reach for his jeans, unbuckling that belt and zipper without breaking eye contact. His arms are on the wall behind you, caging you in and he’s smirking. You know how much he loves this, having you undress him.

Once your hands are free, he emerged forward, his body pressing you against the sink, “turn around for me, bub. It’s going to be hard and fast, just like you need it. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” you say eagerly

You shiver as you feel and hear him take himself into his hand, he spits on his cock and then there’s the wet, push and pull sound of him jerking himself off. It gives you goosebumps. You widen your stance, trying to balance yourself on your heels, and he presses a soothing hand against your back to keep you still as he slides inside of you in one smooth movement.

Oh my god. You want to scream in relief. He feels so much deeper from this angle. Heavier. Bigger. Like you can feel him in your stomach.

Mason's hand clings to yours as he bends you over in front of the sink, his fingers grasping your knuckles while he bends you over, holding on to your knuckles. From this angle, you feel impossibly full.

He kisses the naked skin of your back and throat where your dress is exposed, you grin meeting his face in the mirror.

His hands don’t stop, constantly groping your breasts. His mouth hot and wet on your neck.

Your eyes flutter close, you love how low his voice gets when he’s this deep. It feels good. Feels like someone is touching you from inside out, being with him is consuming. You want him. All of him. All the time. Everywhere.

“Feels so good, Mase,” you whimper as you grind back against him, your skin singing with relief at finally feeling satisfied.

When you finally open your eyes you moan again at the sight of Mason reflected back on the glass in front of you. He’s leaving indents on your skin, hickey that you’ll worry about in the morning. The best part is watching him fuck you.

He looks beautiful, sliding his tongue over his mouth, biting into his lips as he loses himself in staring at how your pussy and his cock work together. Watching himself disappear inside of you with each stutter and thrust of his hips. When he looks up to find you staring at him through the reflection, he smiles so wide and so soft that it makes you tighten around him.

“Mase,” you whimper, wanting to say more but your words got caught in your throat. He feels unbelievably good.

He gathers you closer and sneaks his fingers into the space between your thighs and starts rubbing your swollen clit with two fingers. Your elbows almost losing their balance when touching you, the sensation makes you feel like your knees could buckle.

“Oh my god! Mase-”

“You gonna cum for me baby? Gonna coat my cock with your cum?”

“Yes, only for you Mase!”

You felt a stinging sensation on your scalp where he reaches to tug on your hair. Your spine has no choice but to arch back. The best kind of pain.

“I’m going to make you come so hard, but you need to stay with me okay, angel?” You grit your teeth on a particularly hard thrust.

“I need you to come for me,” Mason says, desperately wanting to feel you cum for him.

Your body obeys him before your mind can think, you’re so weak for him, your shoulders are shaking from the effort of not trying to scream his name.

Mason grips your face gently, as if he could recognise how torn you feel. “That’s it baby. My good girl. Did so well for me angel. Gonna make me come too.”

“Yes! Come for me Mase, I want to feel it-”

And that’s what always does it.

You begging him. He can never resist the ache in your voice. He moans into your mouth as he lets himself go. You talk him through it too, telling how much you love him, how good he looks when he comes, how you wanna feel it deep. His cock is pulsing when he’s done and how he lets go of your lips as his neck rolls back and tries catching his breath. His release settling inside you that makes you feel soothed.

“Fucking hell,” he laughs, sinking his weight onto you, loving the feeling of him against your back. “I’m so glad you’re mine. I get to fuck you for the rest of my life, how lucky am I?” Mason chuckles.

“You tease, and yet I thought you loved me for my brain,” you turned around to place your head on his chest and hugged him.

“Oh believe me I love that too! You don’t understand how sexy is when you turn into a sexy know it all,” Mason winks, placing his head in the crook of your neck, kissing it innocently.

You roll your eyes at his comment. “Come on, let’s go before they suspect anything,” you try to push him off but he wasn’t letting you go. “Masonnnn,” you groan longing out his name. “Fine, but gimme a kiss first,” you roll your eyes at his neediness. You gave into him and you should’ve known he was going to push this kiss deeper than intended. You pull away, “uh uh that’s enough mister,” he gives you a fake sad expression but you weren’t falling for that. He leaned in again but you moved your head so instead his lips met your cheek. He gave you a pout, “Listen if he start again now, we’re never going to stop. I’ll give you what you want when we’re home.”

Instantly his mood changed into a quirkier mood. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the bathroom, “We’re going home,” his pace started to get faster but you suddenly stopped him in the middle of the hall way, “what about your teammates? it’s a bit rude if we leave now,” you said not wanting to leave half way through as it seemed rude.

Mason placed a finger to lips “shh. I’ll just tell them you were being sick or something and speaking of rudeness, wasn’t it rude when you were begging me to fuck you under the table while my teammates were there?” He cockily said, smirking.

Well that certainly shut you up

“That’s what I thought.” He continued his pace until he reached the table you had sat at. “Sorry guys, but we have to go. Y/n’s not feeling well, she just threw up in the toilets,” you wanted to laugh at how much of a good liar he is but you couldn’t otherwise that would have ruined your ‘evening plans’

They all looked at you with a sympathetic look in their eyes clearly believing Mason. You found it hard enough to keep a straight face and when they all looked at you, you wanted to start laughing but you needed to hold them in

Marcus started off saying “Mate don’t be sorry, you’ve got priorities! We completely understand!!” He said enthusiastically following along with the others who were agreeing. You all said your goodbyes and Mason was eager enough to get out of this restaurant.

You reached the car park walking to his car that he had pushed you against as he pulled you close and your lips met in a passionate kiss that seemed to last forever, completely oblivious of the fact that you were in public.

Mason pulled away, “As much as I’d love to do this, we have to remember we’re in public and I really don’t want to wake up to the sun articles saying ‘Mason Mount was caught snogging his girlfriends face off’. I can just picture it” You laughed at him mocking the sun articles which would probably most likely be true.

“I promise to fuck you until you see the stars tonight,” he promises with a wink as he kisses one last time. Now you are eager to get home to see Mason obey what he promised you.

Mason had found the quicker route home, while you couldn’t keep his hands off him. Him speeding because he couldn’t wait to touch you, making love to you the whole night.

You were in for a night of fun ahead of you..

masonmount

Liked by yourusername, benchilwell, sid_vii and 18,736 others

masonmount Forever Mine ♥️

view all 324 comments

yourusername Forever & Always! 😚❤️

1 HOUR AGO

[emo-batboy]

thoughts on battinson with his like seven kids and they have to suffer through everyone wanting to fuck him cause have you seen him??

Alright so this response kinda works in a competely separate realm of canon than what I usually post. I’m gonna preface that right now, but BOY do I have thoughts :D

So when I think of Battinson and his (non)accidental orphan acquisition, I see Battinson as being on a much more even playing field emotionally than most other iterations. He’s not really as stoic and put-together, so having kids (especially multiple) would cause a LOT more chaos and drama. So in this case, I like to think that it happens at a very rapid rate. (Again, I’m saying this because this require straying from the film’s canon to a much larger degree than I usually do.) SO by the time he’s 32, he has an 11yo Dick, a 9yo Jason, and an 8yo Tim. And they probably grow with him much like teen parents do with their kids. He’s not as authoritative as most parents. Instead, he starts out as like half older brother, half dad, then graduates to the roll of batdad after his whole vengeance era.

THAT ALL BEING SAID!! BECAUSE THEY’RE SO MUCH OLDER AND BRUCE IS YOUNGER, THEY DEAL WITH A LOOOOTTTTTT OF CREEPY LADIES TRYING GO GET WITH THEIR DAD. (AND THEY ARE VERY. SMART. FOR THEIR AGE)

Dick, older brother and the leader of the “Save Dad and Our Childhood Innocence” brigade teaches the three everything there is to know. He is the most experienced with these awful public events like galas and charity auctions, so he is in control.

And it is SO much easier to get the creepy suitors to back off when they work as a team

Dick talks everyone’s ears off. He’s the golden boy (getting perfect grades and gold medals in his school’s gymnastics team) so he EASILY gets away with distracting people

Dick will insert himself into adult conversations all the time, and Bruce always lets him, which allows Jason and Tim to wreak havoc on whatever target they chose.

Whenever it isn’t too obvious or it’s late enough in the night, Jason will fake a cold or a headache sometimes (he’s prone to falling sick) and Bruce will insist that he take his kid home and tuck him into bed himself, very fatherly

Tim uses his Youngest Child points to woo the nicer ones and direct them away from Bruce, but it doesn’t usually works on the gold diggers (and thank god because Tim HATES acting cute) so he’ll use it on Bruce instead

When those three plans don’t work, the three gremlins start getting Creative TM

Jason, taking a swig from some wine glass and proceeding to spray it all over Vicky Vale’s white dress: “This isn’t grape juice!”

Tim, resident iPad kid and (despite popular belief) The Most Evil of the Three, sees some lady touching his batdad so he finds her phone number on an online directory and prank calls her every time she gets too close

Suitor: “Your father is very handsome.” Dick: “My father’s dead :(” “…” “Oh wait, you mean Bruce! Yeah, he’s nice.”

One lady starts hanging off of Bruce, but he needs to run off to say hello to an investor. Jason appears from nowhere in his dapper little tux and the lady just says, “So uhh, you like the Wiggles, right?” Jason: “Nope! Have you ever read Crime and Punishment? :)”

Dick “accidentally” slaps some obnoxious guests with his wild hand gestures “Oh no! I’m so sorry :(( Let me get you an ice pack” and pulls them away while the other two hide their laughter

One of the ladies who is WAY too comfortable and forward when flirting with Bruce is forced to sit down with Tim and he goes in head first “what are you doing with my dad?” “oh you know what adults do, honey. Messing around, having fun” and he’s like “well My dad doesn’t look interested” “of course he is! who knows? Maybe we’ll hit it off and make another one of you one day” which gives Tim intense psychic damage, but he’s a horrible little brat so he doesn’t give up. He hits her with the innocent doe eyes and asks in the cutest fucking voice “Where do babies come from?” she BOOKS IT (they never see her again)

Anyway, to answer your question: they are little terrors. and Bruce knows they’re little terrors, but he doesn’t care because he hates the creepy attention even more than they do, but this way it comes with a show :D

[undreaming-fanfiction]

For A Handful of Bandaids

This is my entry for SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge organized by the lovely @thefreakandthehair.

“Hey Steve, do you know where we’ve got some bandaids?”

In hindsight, Eddie should have known that a simple question like that would never prompt a simple response from his boyfriend. Steve was many things - brave, loyal, a great cook, wonderful in bed, but most of all - he tool Eddie’s well-being very seriously. He was a raging bull whose red flag was anything related to health, injury, sickness or danger, no matter how small.

Well. Not really raging. More like anxious, caring and always ready to whip out half of a pharmacy.

So of course, the answer wasn’t “they’re in the second drawer,” nope.

Instead, Steve stood up, grabbed Eddie by his shoulders and started checking him for injuries. “Eddie, are you hurt? Did someone in town attack you again? Shit, I thought things’ve calmed down, did you recognize them?”

It would have been hilarious if Eddie hadn’t hated making Steve worried.

He reached for Steve’s hands, still on his shoulders, and put on his most persuasive voice. “Steve, baby, I swear I’m fine! No attacks, no black eyes, no broken bones. I’m completely fine!” He even grabbed his collar and moved it to the side so Steve could check. “See? No strangulation marks. Uh...no new strangulation marks, post-bat.”

Steve seemed to be calming down, good. Fantastic. “So...” he said slowly, “...you don’t need them for yourself? Did one one of the kids get hurt? Wayne?”

Eddie really wanted to punch himself in the face now. Why hadn’t he spent those five extra minutes looking for the bandaids himself?!

“No. Look, Steve. I need them for myself, but for something small. Something very very VERY tiny. I just made a not-so-ideal decision and now I want to treat the consequences.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed and his stare traveled directly into Eddie’s soul. “Eddie. What. Did. You. Do?”

“...I think it would be easier to show you.”

---

In another hindsight, it would have been easier to tell Steve. If Eddie thought seeing the crime scene would calm his boyfriend down, he was dead wrong.

Steve’s eyes traveled over the destruction. Eddie’s books, neatly arranged on bookshelves that morning, were now lying everywhere. The books from the bookcase didn’t fare any better - except the bookcase was now lying on them, over their bed. Speaking of the bed, the plant that they saved from a local dumpster and nurtured back to health? That plant was now depotted over Eddie’s pillow.

He sucked in a breath through his front teeth. “Did someone break in?”

Eddie shook his head so fast his hair became a tangled mess. “No. Nono. Steve. No one invaded our wonderful home. No one damaged our property. I mean, someone did, but it was...very much deserved.”

“Eddie. Explain. Now.”

“Oh yeah. Sure. Will do. Um...how long a version do you want?”

“Concise.”

“Right. In short - Ozzy did this.” Noticing Steve’s disbelieving stare, Eddie quickly added: “But I deserved it. Totally.”

Steve sat down onto the single clean and empty spot on their bed. “Are you telling me that our cat knocked over a full bookcase?”

Eddie had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no, that was me.”

“I take back the “concise” request. Tell me everything. Step by step.”

“Right.” Eddie’s eyes darted between each aspect of the crime scene, trying to put together a reasonable explanation. “So. I was sitting on the bed with Ozzy. He didn’t like something I did and decided to run away, but I was...sort of connected to him.”

“Sort of connected...?”

Eddie waved his hand. “I’ll explain. But as he was escaping, I had to go after him, because you know...connected. And he really didn’t like that. So he jumped up that bookcase and we were still-”

“-connected?” Steve didn’t seem to understand or believe any of it, but he was certainly entertained.

“Yep. So I tried to climb the bookcase and get him down.”

Steve’s palm connected with his forehead with a resounding slap. “Eddie. Do you know how physics work?”

Snorting, Eddie shook his head. “Of course I don’t, Steve. Failed high school twice, remember? But I also know your grades and because of that I dare to say - neither do you. Not that physics would have gotten Ozzy down.”

“That part is true.” Steve was grinning back at him, imagining the chaos. “So, you climbed the bookcase and it fell on you. What next?”

Eddie pointed at the sad remains of Steve’s plant. “I knew how much you love that plant, so I decided to save it. Since it was on that bookshelf. I heroically leapt from the bookcase and towards the plant, but I have miscalculated my daring rescue.”

Steve’s eyebrows did that adorable confused scrunch. “You what?”

“I jumped too fast and it fell on my head.”

“Oh.”

Eddie nodded, touching a sore spot on his nape. “Yeah. And my head gave it that extra bounce to land on the pillow. Wrong side up, I’m afraid.”

Steve reached out to the plant and picked it up, examining its leaves. “I think she’ll live. She’s a strong girl. Continue.”

“Not much more to tell,” Eddie shrugged. “Ozzy used the commotion to disconnect himself from me and darted outside. I got soil out of my hair and went to ask you for bandaids.

Steve was stroking the plant’s leaves, checking for damage. “The one thing I don’t understand is this. How didn’t I hear it happening?”

“Oh, it was much faster than it sounds. And I believe you were washing the dishes.”

“That explains it,” Steve nodded and set the plant into its miraculously unharmed flower pot. “One more question then. How were you connected?”

Eddie started chewing on his hair and looking at the ground instead of Steve. “You know...it’s almost Christmas, right?” he asked in a quiet voice. “And you love Christmas. Everyone knows you love Christmas, so...”

“Eddie. How were you connected?” he repeated slowly, carefully.

He smiled sheepishly, pulling something colorful from his pocket. “Do you know how they say that fate connects you with a red string? Something like that. The rest shall be revealed when we find Ozzy. I think he’s hiding under the sink again.”

Steve stood up and sighed the deepest sigh Eddie had heard in ages. “I have no clue where this is going,”

---

Ozzy was, as Eddie had predicted, hiding under the sink. He was hiding really well, 10/10 would not find the cat, except for the red wool that led from the corridor directly to the bathroom. And when they finally got the unhappy cat out with promises of treats and even more treats, Steve finally saw it and laughed.

“Really, this is what you did?” he asked and reached out to free Ozzy.

Despite his prompt escape, Ozzy still bore wounds from his brave fight against Eddie. Except those weren’t wounds, it was a half-unraveled red Christmas sweater. Steve thought he recognized Claudia Henderson’s work. No matter who knitted it, Ozzy obviously hated the idea.

Eddie was, just like the sweater, bright red. “See, it was nearly finished and I promised to try it on him, just to see if it fits. And when he decided he didn’t like it, which was pretty much immediately, I think one of the loose threads got caught on my rings. So...yeah.”

 Steve pulled him into a kiss and scratched Ozzy’s back, now free from the wooly prison.

“You really thought you could get that sweater on our cat? You’re adorable. I’ll get those bandaids.”