#and the options for each were endless.

[babsaros]

went to a real dispensary and got real weed like a big kid today

[spaghettiposts]

Window Crashin’

WandaNat x Spidey!Reader

Summery: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Warnings: Very OBLIVIOUS reader, straight up stupid I can’t lie. Gay panics all around. Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: my first time officially writing for Nat and I think I’d like to continue so expect separate fics of her sometime soon.

Kraven had become an incessant thorn in your side, his relentless rampage ever since he announced “The Grand Hunt” in the heart of Central Park felt like a never-ending nightmare. One that persistently dragged on as the weeks floated by, each day a new form of tinnitus growing in your eardrums at the echoings of his horn. Falling once again into his endless game of cat and mouse.

Or in your case Kraven and Spider–with Kraven playing predator and you, the elusive Spider, trying to lure him away from innocent civilians roaming the streets of New York. 

Which wasn’t as easy as one would imagine, but you made do with what you had, brains over brawns. Clinging onto the hope that eventually, Kraven would grow tired of chasing and resign for the night, with the promise that he’d return. And so the cycle goes on. 

There were other options you could resort to, but those were last resorts, ones you only used if you were certain you couldn’t handle Kraven or in case of an emergency. In all honesty, you’re avoiding involving the Avengers, it’s really the last thing you want this to come to. A couple of broken ribs wasn’t an Avengers level threat.

You could handle Kraven by yourself perfectly fine, and nobody got hurt at the end of the day—except mainly your sleep schedule.

And now, as you swung through the thick chilling air on route to the compound; you were struggling to stay awake, the bruises littered across your body only making it harder to keep swinging. It wasn’t that sleep had ever been your strong suit, but now, it seemed like a distant luxury. The sacrifice of a hero came in many forms, and sleep deprivation was yours. 

Tony had sacrificed half his company in pursuit of a heroic lifestyle, hell, even Steve froze himself to save humanity. If humanity needed you to suffer from fewer hours in bed, then so be it. 

You fought relentlessly to keep your eyes from drooping and it only took the honking of a truck for you to jolt awake, merely missing out on the experience of being rammed by one. 

Shaking your head, you muttered words of encouragement to yourself, living on a prayer of making it back to the compound - in one piece. 

As the familiar building came into view, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you swung around towards the left block and homed in on your window, only to face-plant straight into it with a resounding thud.

You groaned against the pavement, pressing your hands on the wall to steady yourself before you could slide off. Silently thanking that radioactive spider for granting you the ability to stick to surfaces as you adjusted yourself, what the fuck?

A miscalculation on your part—or at least you pictured. Pushing yourself back from the wall, your eyebrows crinkled. Huh.

You always left your window open–had one of your teammates closed it off?

Assuming one of the guys must’ve closed it off, you didn’t question much, missing your bed and running on pure exhaustion to really assess the situation seriously. Gripping the sides of the window, you tried to pry from the outside, and after a couple of difficulties; you managed to unlock it, budging it open with a click. 

Finally, home sweet home. 

Your body toppled into the room first before the rest of your body crashed onto the floor, reaching an arm to shut the window behind you. With a sigh of relief, you picked yourself up, stretching your arms above your head, eliciting a satisfying ‘pop’ from your back, feeling all the pent-up tensions of the day leave your body. 

Pressing the button on your chest, making quick work of discarding your suit. You struggled more than you’d like to admit, having to hop on one foot to wiggle your feet out of the padding. 

Amidst your squirming, you failed to notice the crimson warps seeping from your bed, freezing mid-movement as the lights flickered on by themselves, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You screeched, scrambling up to your feet, firmly clutching your uniform in a poor attempt to cover yourself from the two women on your bed, equally startled.

“Y/n…? What are you doing here?” Natasha says after a beat of silence, her eyes furrowing as she lowers her gun and the arm protectively wrapped around her girlfriend. Wanda mirrored her actions and let the red wisps fall before she turned to you disconcertingly.

You shrunk under their gaze, feeling your heart pick up. It was too late to salvage any attempts at running for it, so you turned away, ignoring how affected you felt by their disheveled appearances.

Instead, you focused on why they were inside your room in the first place. Not that you minded having two beautiful women in your bed but at this hour? 

“What are you doing in my room? I just got back, what’s…” Your voice trailed off, slipping on your suit, as you looked towards your dresser…was it always that color? And why was there a photo of Wanda and Natasha on your nightstand? Sure, you were hopelessly in love with the two but never to this extent.

Barely bordering on those lines. 

“Detka…this is our room,” Wanda said slowly, as to not startle you. 

You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake. “Aw fuck, I must’ve crashed into the wrong—wall-side thing,” you explained messily, picking yourself up for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 

“Crashed?” Both of the girls shouted and you winced, scooting off awkwardly to the side, feeling even more like an intrusion. 

“Yeah but it’s okay though, that’s nothing compared to Kraven's fists, trust me.” You meant to reassure them, but judging by the worried looks they exchanged, it had the opposite effect. Taking their silence as an opportunity to leave, you stepped back.

“Anyways, sorry for interrupting your night.” You mumbled apologetically, reaching for the window handle. “I’ll see y'all tomorrow— son of a bitch.” You grunted, banging your head against the glass for the second time this night. You were really starting to resent these things.  

And Wanda bit her bottom lip, “Malysh, it’s late and you’re…not doing well, why don’t you stay here tonight?” She suggested softly, her voice coming out as sweet as honey and you almost dropped dead there.

“Here?” You blurted out, feeling a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “Like, with you and Nat?”

Natasha and Wanda shared an amused look, before nodding in unison. 

Your face crinkled, not really understanding what the looks were for but you assumed it was all in your head. Sparing one last glance at the two, you confirmed this was okay, searching for even the smallest bits of hesitancy or discomfort only to find nothing but welcoming smiles. 

With a small nod, barely audible, you murmured a hesitant “alright,” as you settled into the chair beside their bed, placing your feet on the small wooly ottoman.

Had your eyes been open, you might’ve noticed the way their faces dropped in disappointment. After months of obvious pining, not-so-subtle flirting thrown your way, you were choosing to sleep…not with them but on a chair.

A brief silence lingered, and you shifted in your seat. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel their eyes piercing and you were starting to sweat.

“Sorry,” You mumble, heat rising up your neck in embarrassment as you removed your feet off the ottoman, fearing you had overstepped. Still, their gazes remained unwavering and you rubbed your arm unsurely, “Is the chair off–limits too? I can take the floor if that’s better.”

“Dorogoy, we’re inviting you into our bed,” Natasha chuckles disbelievingly, fingers tracing the covers as to tempt you with the invitation. 

“Mhmm, yeah no. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, stumbling over your words. “I don’t do well in confined spaces with pretty women, I mean— no wait you are, both are super pretty but that’s not—“ 

Thankfully, Wanda interjected before you could embarrass yourself further with a giggle. You swore your stomach flipped. “Cute, but won’t you get cold?” She suggested, Natasha nodding and lifting the covers, adding, “It’s much warmer over here.”

Again, you waved them off and they were starting to get fed up with your excuses. “Oh nah! My suit has thermal heating installed, pretty cool right? Tony helped me insulate it–”

“Y/n, just get in the bed.”

Before you could protest further, you felt those warm red tendrils wrap around you, coaxing you into their bed, and you couldn’t even remember why you were fighting this in the first place when their arms wrapped around you. Not when their sheets were so warm, and their bodies warmer. 

Resistance be damned, as Natasha's hand ran gently through your hair, you relaxed into it, and both girls smiled. This was how things needed to be, always. 

Still, your heart was beyond nervous to even enjoy the moment but they were pushing at your shoulders to tuck you in further, getting settled themselves. They tangled their limbs with your own and it was official; there was definitely no escaping this. 

Pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, Wanda murmured a couple of words and you felt more comfortable clothes encase you. Natasha pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before bidding you a good night.

You repeat her words back and they tighten their grip, closing their eyes. 

With exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drooped helplessly again, fluttering shut, bones begging for sleep, and you finally surrendered to its embrace. Allowing yourself a moment of rest with the two people you treasure most in the world. 

And suddenly, crashing into windows didn’t seem so bad after all.

[wileys-russo]

can we get alexia being standoffish towards you bc of feelings she has for you & she doesn’t know how to express them? and once she realizes that you are taking it personally she gets over herself and explains and then some fluff?

it’s literally my favorite trope 🫠🫠

change of pace II a.putellas

when you first joined barcelona you were welcomed in with open arms. terrified on your first day you were left under the watchful eye of your national teammate, frido making sure she didn't leave your side the entire time introducing you to everyone one by one.

there wasn't a single person who wasn't friendly and by the time your first official week finished up you felt as if you'd already been there for a full season with how friendly and close knit everyone was.

upon learning your contract was nearly up with rosengard and coming off the back of a phenomenal euros performance your agent was quick to seek out if there would be offers coming your way from other leagues before negotiations started for an extension with your current team.

much to your shock one of the biggest and most appealing offers came from barcelona and the moment the teams name left your agents mouth you all but officially accepted, dismissing him from running you through the rest of your options with your mind already made up.

frido was delighted when you'd called her with the news, making a point to spend the entire world cup forcing you to work on your spanish.

though her refusal at times to speak to you in anything but spanish caused you endless headaches by the time your first day in barcelona rocked up you felt immense gratitude for her somewhat forceful approach.

the first month of the season flew by and though you were yet to get minutes under your belt you'd already learnt so much and improved immensely from training and working with the team.

having met her several times already when she'd come to visit frido or during facetimes when you'd called the older girl mid season for advice, you found yourself gravitating toward ingrid and the two of you formed a close bond.

one in which you'd often tease frido for that ingrid liked you more than her much to the older swedes offence and how quick she was to bite every single time you'd tease her.

being linked so closely with ingrid meant you were also close with her girlfriend mapi, who'd been one of the very first people to come up and introduce herself on your first day, even being so friendly that frido had jokingly warned her away to let you settle in before she 'corrupted' you.

then again in turn from spending so much time with the couple you found yourself often out in a small group in which your captain was present, alexia warm but much less outspoken than the rest of the team.

at first you'd just put it down to her needing to hold her reputation up which of course proceeded her, and wanting to seem as professional as possible as even mapi would tease she needed to lighten up when you'd all hang out together.

but overtime the older girl seemed to soften and you found her making more of an effort to in fact 'lighten up' and lower her seemingly stern walls.

though this still didn't stop you from being a little taken aback when one day she offered to show you around barcelona, joking that she could show you all the local spots that tourists like yourself would never find.

and so a tradition of sorts was born as you settled in and found your place within the team.

frido would pick you up each morning for training since you were yet to pass your test which allowed you to drive in spain, but it was alexia who would take you back home.

then each day the blonde would show you something new around barca. if it be a lookout, a beach, a restaurant, a cafe, whatever it was she always seemed to have a story behind its significance and what drew her there and you were certain you enjoyed these much more than the place itself.

which is why it was odd when one day she seemingly forgot you, having already left for the day by the time you finished showering and changing. luckily ingrid and mapi hadn't left yet and drove you home, assuring alexia probably had a family or media commitment she just forgot to mention.

but it wasn't a once off, and suddenly alexia seemed to be making a point of leaving before you, seperating herself from you in trainings and ghosting the calls and texts you'd send her checking in if something had happened.

you questioned your teammates on her strange behaviour who all were as clueless as you, also unsure why alexia was suddenly acting as if you had some sort of infectious disease, barely saying more than a few words to you a day if you were lucky.

her actions hurt more than you let on but frido saw right through the act and with her now taking over both picking up and dropping you off after training and for games she took the opportunity to gently question you about why this was happening.

of course you couldn't answer any of her questions being unsure yourself and with mapi trying to get the same answers out of alexia with the same luck, when the spaniard and the swede met for coffee the next day neither could piece together what had happened.

it would appear most of the team assumed you had some sort of falling out or argument neither of you wanted to come clean about, and not wanting to shatter the team dynamic gratefully seemed to drop it all together.

you however weren't so willing to let everything go, especially when you'd overheard alexia making plans for the teams day off with mapi. "-but why ale? what happened that is so bad you will not even speak with her?" you paused about to turn the corner, warning bells going off as you really weren't in the mood to be blatantly ignored.

"nothing! just drop it please, and don't invite her." you didn't need a pen to fill in the blanks on who her was in this situation, so with your jaw clenching you made a point to turn the corner and make your presence known.

"hola amiga we did not-" mapi's eyes widened as she grabbed for your arm but you side stepped her, alexias face remaining unreadable as something flickered in her eyes which met yours for a fleeting moment before you turned your head and continued on your way.

you were certain after that you'd just ignore alexia back, give up on any real chance you had to dig deeper into why she was behaving this way and just commit to the lack of communication and interaction she seemed to favour.

but you lost your chance when it was mapi and ingrids turn to host the team bonding night and with a stomach bug ripping through the team the group was a lot smaller than usual, and you found yourself unable to avoid your captain.

you did your best all evening to speak to everyone and anyone else but it seemed someone was determined to meddle as when everyone settled in to watch some spanish soap they were fixated on, the only free spots left for the two of you were on the floor right by one another.

you made a point to shuffle your body as far away from alexia as you could but with lucy's legs blocking you from moving much further you had no choice but to settle for your shoulder just pressing lightly against the midfielders.

you tensed as two episodes in you felt alexias hand shift, fingers brushing yours and sending a jolt up your arm as you quickly moved your hand into your lap and leant your body into lucys legs to get even further away.

you were even more surprised that in the next ten minutes all you could feel was alexia's eyes burning into the side of your head, but you refused to acknowledge it.

it became harder when ona left and alexia moved into her spot on the sofa behind you, leaving you on the floor basically right in the middle of her legs which stretched out beside you as again you shuffled away.

another episode in and suddenly alexia seemed to want to play footsies, her foot tucking beneath your thigh and poking you every now and then as her knee rested against your shoulder, the touch both familiar and foreign as you exhaled slowly.

you tried to push her leg away but it just returned to the same position so you gave up.

when that episode ended and mapi decided that it was time to call it a night you dared to glance up toward the blonde who made a point to ignore your gentle tap against her knee to try and gain her attention, starting a conversation with lucy as you shook your head feeling foolish for even giving in for a second to her games.

mumbing something in swedish under your breath you stood quickly, hugging your hosts goodnight and waving goodbye to the team, out the door in seconds flat as you made a beeline for the elevator.

with frido down with the stomach bug you pulled out your phone to call an uber, gently dismissing lucys offer of a ride home well aware she'd be headed for ona's house which was in the opposite direction of your own, given you'd accidentally caught them mid makeout in ona's car one morning.

frowning at the price surge of your ride you didn't hear someone else enter the elevator, only aware you weren't alone anymore as the doors closed and someone cleared their throat causing you to lift your head.

but when you saw who it was it immediately dropped back down. "how are you getting home?" the silence was broken by her raspy voice. "uber." you mumbled, clicking yes and waiting for a driver to accept the ride.

"i can drive you."

at that your eyes flicked back upwards and you scoffed. "i think i will take my chances being left for dead in a ditch than stuck in a car with you for twenty minutes, gracias though capi." your tone was bordering on venomous and it took alexia by shock, never having heard you say a bad word about or to anyone before.

the elevator opening you wasted no time hurrying out, though still waiting for a driver to accept you didn't really have much of a choice but to come to a halt on the curb outside their building.

"let me drive you." "no." "it is unsafe." "i do not care." "you are being stubborn." "like you are one to talk alexia."

"this is ridiculous, just get in the car!" the older girl rolled her eyes, nodding for you to follow her as you stayed quiet, eyes focused on the road in front of you. "come on, please let me drive you home." her voice softened as she stood beside you only a head taller.

"no." "why not?"

"why not? you cannot be serious alexia?" you laughed at that though the noise was anything but humorous as alexia frowned.

"because you clearly have some hidden reason to dislike me and i heard you talking to mapi the other day so do not now pretend like you want me around or you care what happens to me." you scoffed again and looked away.

"i do care, and i do not dislike you."

her words were even softer now which only irritated you further as you muttered under your breath in your native language which you knew she wouldn't understand.

"don't do that! you know i don't like it when you do that." the catalan scowled as your phone pinged signalling a driver had accepted and your shoulders sagged a little in relief.

"hey!" you frowned as it was taken from your hand and the ride was cancelled. "alexia!" you groaned as she held your phone out of reach. "please let me drive you home."

"well you have not given me a choice now. i would walk but i do not know the way!" you gave in with a huff as she nodded curtly, heading for her car still with your phone held captive in hand.

the drive home itself was silent, alexia handing you your phone back and neither one of you making an attempt at conversation as your eyes stayed focused out the window as the street lights passed by in a blur.

before the girl had even parked up properly outside your apartment complex you'd undone your seatbelt, finding the silence was suffocating you now. but before you could open her door there was a click as she tapped the child lock button.

your forehead thumped helplessly against the window as you exhaled deeply meaning the glass fogged up for a moment. "i do not dislike you." she repeated again, hands gripping the steering wheel as you tucked your knees to your chest.

"you have a funny way of showing it." "i know."

"so is that it then? can i leave now? i might not be a child but i am sure i can call this kidnapping." you huffed with a roll of your eyes when alexia made no move to say anything else.

"no wait! please." her hand grabbed your wrist as you tried to reach over her to press the unlock button. "for what? for you to say something now and then go back to ignoring me for no reason tomorrow? no thank you." you huffed with a roll of your eyes.

"i know. my actions have been immature and i am sorry if they hurt you." "oh you are sorry if they hurt me? thank you alexia, all better now."

"wait! i am not good at this." she grabbed your hand stopping you again, throwing her head back with a groan.

"good at what? alexia we went from talking everyday to you acting like i had a disease and you could not even bare to look at me. that hurt but the worst part was i asked you many times if i had done something and you still would not reply! so i had no idea what even happened to make you treat me like this suddenly. so what do you expect me to think?" you ranted, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown.

"i know." "so you keep saying, yet here i am still with no idea why you are acting like this." "because i like you! dios mio."

"if you like me then why would you just suddenly stop talking to me? you are so confusing!" you groaned, dragging your hands down your face in frustration.

"no mierda!" alexia whispered, biting down on her lip and pausing. "i like you." alexia repeated as you continued to stare at her in confusion. "like...i wanted to ask you on a date." alexia admitted with a sigh, wincing at her own words as your eyes shot wide with surprise.

"oh." "see? that is why i did not. that is why i pulled away to try and work on my feelings because you do not feel that way about me." "how?" "how what?" "how do you know i feel like that?"

your own question now caught alexia off guard as she stammered for a moment. "well because i was going to ask you out because i thought maybe you liked me back. but then i heard you speaking to frido and making plans with your boyfriend for the summer break." alexia's face deflated as yours scrunched up, trying to recall what she meant until it clocked.

"oh alexia." you sighed, unable to stop yourself from letting out a laugh as she turned to you with a glare. "see you are laughing at me now! you can go." with that the door unlocked and you shook your head.

"no no, i am not laughing at you." you promised, alexia tensing as your hand moved to her knee. "alexia, you heard me mention elias yes?" you clarified as she slowly nodded and your smile grew.

"elias is my brother ale, he is quite close with frido's partner so we often all go away together on weekends." you explained as alexia paused for a moment to register your words before letting out a deep sigh.

"so you do not-" "no, i do not have a boyfriend." "ah, well that-oh wow." alexia groaned hanging her head in her hands as you squeezed her knee.

"you should have talked to me about it." "i wanted to! but i am not good with my...feelings." "neither am i, but we could have worked it out together." you squeezed her knee one more time before removing your hand.

"wait!" her hand grabbed your wrist as you opened the door and started to slide out. you saw her struggling with her words and gently tugged your hand from her grip, hovering by her door.

"yes." you spoke simply as she tilted her head with a frown. "yes?"

"yes ale, i would like to go on a date with you. you can pick me up on friday, i am free after six." and with that you walked away from her car back to your apartment, leaving both of you with an excited grin and hope for what might lay ahead for the pair of you.

[foxy-eva]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Summary: Spencer was the right person at the wrong time, no doubt about it. When you’re finally back in town, you’re ready for a fresh start. 

Request: Exes with Feelings, Having an Argument, Finding Comfort in Each Other's Arms

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Fluff, Comfort 

Content Warnings: mentions past break-up and fighting, a little misunderstanding, heavy kissing

Word count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins New Beginnings Writing Challenge

Masterlist

Endless hours of late-night phone calls. More time spent on planes than inside each other’s arms. Weekends that were never quite long enough.  

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Spencer said. 

He was nothing but supportive of your decision to take an internship on the other side of the country. There was no doubt that the two of you could make this work, you were soulmates after all. 

“So fond it sometimes starts hurting,” you added. 

Neither of you expected that what should have been a temporary arrangement could turn into something more permanent. But when you got offered a full-time position for your dream job, you had to make the most difficult decision of your life. 

“You could come with me, you know,” you told him after letting him in on your decision to take the job offer. He only shook his head. 

“Why is your job more important than mine?” You hissed, angry that he wasn’t even considering that option. When he didn’t answer, you added, “Why is your job more important than me?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Neither of you wanted to end this relationship but after that argument you knew it was inevitable. Spencer’s stubbornness stood in the way of him begging you to stay, even though you wished for nothing more than one of those cheesy airport scenes from the romcom movies you liked to watch together. 

He never showed up, though. 

It was hard to believe that all of that happened almost a year ago. The heartache never fully went away and it got worse now that you were back, walking the streets of a city you once called home. Your job made you happy for a while but after months of trying and failing to make new friends, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life. 

And more than anything, you missed Spencer. 

The city still felt familiar as you stepped closer to the apartment building you spent so many days and nights in. It was almost like no time had passed when you walked up the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. The hallway still carried the same scent of old wood and the steps still creaked underneath your feet. Before you had reached his door another memory flooded your mind. 

Turning your head, you looked down the hallway and remembered how Spencer spun you around right there in a little impromptu dance when you came home from one of Rossi’s infamous dinner parties. You were happy then - some might even call you naive - and so convinced that you’d spend the rest of your life with the man of your dreams. 

The more you got lost in reminiscing about times long gone, the more you could almost feel the warmth Spencer always radiated. Your skin started tingling where he used to press his palms against you, holding your close as if nothing could ever come between the two of you. 

You sighed as you let those memories go. There were so many uncertainties as you stepped closer to his door. You weren’t sure if he still lived here and you didn’t know if he had found someone else to keep close since you left. The rational part of your brain knew that you should have called him before showing up, that he might not even want to see you. 

But those past months you recognized that you were nothing but a fool when it came to love and romance. He didn’t show up at the airport for you but a part of you still believed he would take you back just like the people in those romcoms always did. 

Relief washed over you when you found his name still written on the door of apartment 23. 

Three knocks. No answer. 

You lingered for a few moments to listen for any movement behind his door but there was none. Spencer wasn’t home and your life really wasn’t some corny movie. 

As you walked away from his door you contemplated your options. Maybe you should send him a text or even write him a letter to let him know you’re back in town. 

Or maybe you should just let it go. 

Just when you reached the last step, a tall curly-haired man entered the building. You recognized him instantly, many moments before he even realized that you were there. He greeted the doorman before turning his head towards the staircase and spotting you. 

Spencer’s face was impossible to read and looked nothing like you imagined whenever you dreamed about running into him again. Where you hoped to find a bright smile, only a thin line was visible. He looked as if he wasn’t sure you were real, as if he couldn’t trust his own eyes. 

“Hi Spencer,” you broke the silence. 

“H..Hi,” he stammered as he stepped closer. “What are you doing here?” 

I’m trying to win you back. I came to tell you how much I miss you. I want to start over. I’m still in love with you. 

There were many things you could have answered but none of the obvious explanations made it past your lips. Instead you said, “I have a job interview.” 

Spencer was confused and raised his eyebrows. “In my building?”

“No, not here of course,” you awkwardly laughed. “I have a job interview here in DC tomorrow. And I thought I’d come by to say hi.” 

Spencer just stood there like a doe caught in the headlights. It still seemed like he had a hard time processing what was happening. 

Right when he wanted to open his mouth, a raven-haired woman entered the building behind him. She was almost as tall as him and absolutely gorgeous. 

“Hey, are you ready to leave?” She asked when Spencer turned around to look at her. 

“I’ll be there in a second,” he answered before finding your eyes again. “I’m sorry but now is not a good time. Can I call you later?” 

Of course he had found someone else. 

You were too late. 

“Don't worry about it!” You said and quickly walked away from the most awkward situation you had ever been in. 

When you were almost around the corner, you heard Spencer call out your name, followed by, “Please wait!” 

Turning around, you found him running towards you. He slowed down the closer he got, coming to a halt about an arm-length away from you. He looked back and you followed his sight, spotting the woman getting into a car. She didn't drive away, instead it seemed like she was waiting for him. 

It was as if you were struck by lightning when you suddenly felt Spencer's arms wrapping around you. A hug was the last thing you had expected in that moment. It took you a moment to reciprocate the gesture, your arms closing around his body as if no time had passed since you last got a chance to do that. 

Never before had an embrace felt so healing. Like two lost puzzle pieces finally finding their way back to each other. You instantly felt the warmth he radiated entering your body and flooding through you.  

For a few seconds it was nice to pretend that no time had passed but once you remembered her, reality came crashing down on you. You wanted him to be happy more than anything but you couldn't deny that you still wished it could be you who he’d find happiness with. 

You were the first to let go, slowly stepping back to find his eyes. “I’m glad you found someone. She seems lovely,” you said while attempting to smile. 

“What..? Oh you mean Tara?” He turned his head to look back at her car for a second. “She’s my new coworker. I’m actually on the job right now, it’s a local case. I was just stopping by the apartment to grab some books I needed.”

Oh. 

“I really gotta get back to Quantico now. Where are you staying?” 

You mentioned the name of the friend you were staying with and told him, “I’m sorry I came by unannounced. You usually have Sundays off so I thought I’d give it a try.”

Spencer smiled at you and said, “No, I’m glad you did. It might be late when I get back tonight but I would really like to talk more.”

“I’m still a night owl,” you snickered. “Just call me when you're on your way home.” 

Several hours passed until your phone finally rang. The call was short, just a simple agreement you’d meet him at his place in about thirty minutes. 

When you stood in front of his door this time, you almost didn't have the courage to knock. After taking a deep breath, you did it anyway. 

As if he had been waiting right at the other side of the door, he opened immediately and let you step inside. 

“I like the way you wear your hair now. It looks great,” he complimented you. 

You noticed that he looked different, too. His hair was longer but his curls still seemed unruly. Just like they used to when you still had the chance to let your fingers brush through them. 

You smiled at him. “You look good, too.” 

It seemed like time had stood still inside his apartment. A few more books were scattered around and it looked a little more messy than what you were used to, but all in all it was still very familiar. Muscle memory led you to the same spot on his couch you always liked to sit in. 

Spencer followed you, taking his seat beside you. It was hard to find the right words when you looked into his eyes. The color of his irises reminded you of wild honey, so warm and alluring you couldn't get enough of looking at them. 

Before you got too lost, Spencer decided to start the conversation. 

“So, you have a job interview tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, I do,” you confirmed. “I want to move back here. I miss DC.” 

I miss you, was what you really wanted to say. 

“What about your job in Seattle?” 

You just shrugged and mumbled, “I’m ready for something new, I guess. Seattle never felt like home.” After a moment of uncomfortable silence you added, “I never should have left.”

Spencer shook his head. “Eventually, you would have regretted not taking that chance. And you probably would have resented me for that.”

“I never thought I would be someone who chose career over love,” you confessed. 

“It’s not that simple,” he disagreed. “I was just too stubborn and hurt to see it back then. It took several months until I could understand that I was trying to hold you back from starting a promising career. That wasn’t fair. I could have easily transferred to the Seattle field office or maybe start teaching at a university there. At the time you didn't have the same opportunities here in DC.” 

His words surprised you. It was an admission you never thought you’d hear from him.

“You wanted to choose love and career by asking me to come with you,” he continued, his tone laced with pain. “I was the one who chose his career over love. And I really regret that.”

“Spencer,” you whispered as you moved closer to him. “I missed you so much.” 

He reached out his hand to touch yours. “I missed you, too.”

His touch let something snap inside you, suddenly you were not able to hold back any longer. Without a warning your lips found his, feverishly kissing him as if you could somehow make up for lost time. 

He didn't seem surprised about your display of affection. Instead he reciprocated the kiss with a similar amount of enthusiasm. It was not enough though, there was still too much space between you. 

It was obvious that Spencer felt the same way, his hands pressing against your body until you had found your way into his lap. Between heavy breaths and lips brushing against one another, you started to forget your surroundings. 

Your chest was pushed flush against his, your racing heart sensing its counterpart inside his ribcage and skipping several beats. 

“Please, Spencer,” you whimpered against his lips, unable to let everything in your mind spill from your mouth. 

I’m sorry for leaving you. Please give me another chance. I love you. 

There was no need for those words to be spoken. Spencer understood anyway. 

“I’m yours,” he cooed between more kisses. “I have always been yours.”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

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[radiance1]

Bruce has been chasing after Damian for years now, the once child now a young adult. He's missed 5 years of his son's life, due to a conversation where they both said the wrong words which resulted in Damian running away and somehow managing to evade all of them for so long.

He has to get to his son, before Talia sucks him right back up into the league.

They managed to track his location down to a nightclub, apparently, he was participating in a regularly held event that's been going on ever since 6 years ago.

So they went to the city the nightclub was in, disguised themselves in the crowd and was told to let each other know if they've found Damian.

He didn't expect to meet Talia and the same nightclub, but it made sense. If he was able to find Damian, then it makes sense for Talia to be able to do so as well, even after years hiding from the both of them.

He was keeping an eye on Talia, and she was keeping an eye on him as well, when the event started. The most popular-and only- DJ appeared and played music that had the civilians going wild, and then an entire stage sprang from the ground, multicolored lights coming to life.

This was an event in which multiple dancers had to compete against each other, for what was previously the chance to battle Wraith, the champion who also acted as the DJ, but that changed when Demon came around, overthrowing Wraith and yet, the two seemed to be evenly matched, taking the champion title from each other over the period of 5 years.

Now, who ever got far enough had the option to pick between the two, the Wraith or the Demon.

===

Danny, or otherwise known as Wraith, managed to find a place for himself after losing everything to the Nasty Burger explosion, with the help of Vlad to get him back on his feet, he managed to find a place for himself in a nightclub in another city.

It was in that same city, that he didn't expect to see his twin, Damian Al Ghul, by himself. He explained that he left his father, and was on the run from their mother, Damian didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Which-as much as he wasn't on a cordial relationship with Damian- reminded him of himself after the explosion of Nasty Burger. So, he took him in at his pretty decent size apartment, fully prepared to do what was needed for his older brother until he got back on his feet.

Then Damian followed him to the nightclub one day, and then the next demanded that Danny teach him so that he could earn his keep.

And Danny did.

He didn't expect for Damian to progress so fast that he was able to dethrone him, though. But he gave credit where credit was due, and if Damian was hellbent on doing this for a living, then he had to wear a mask to hide his identity, from you know, some types of fans and the League as well.

He asked Vlad for another neon mask- he had one himself- and Vlad gave him one surprisingly easy, and then he gave that mask to Damian.

And that, was how Wraith and Demon became regular champions that dethroned each other, until the manager told them to stop because no one else would be able to display their skills and instead made them both champions.

Either pick one or get two.

Their lives fell into an endless motion of DJing, dancing to earn money, and then going back home to a messy apartment, eating and then passing out.

It was a perfect routine that neither of them whished to disturb.

Then Danny saw Talia, and Damian saw Bruce, and suddenly that peace was threatened. Neither of them wanted to go back now, not after establishing this little thing for themselves that they carved out with their own two hands.

But it would be okay, as long as their masks stay on they would go unnoticed, after all.

They wouldn't even think that their children were dancers, would they?

[comfortless]

syl im begging on my hands and knees pls pls pls expand on that idea of könig being a warrior rumored to eat womens hearts its like giving scheherazade and i NEED IT

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. vague time period/setting. fem(afab) reader. light descriptions of violence and gore, talk of cannibalism, non-con groping & cuddling, forced marriage.

There are endless tasks to be done and everything beneath a vast blue sky to explore, forgoing those things, the men about your village often prefer to gather for a duel. There are no rules for their game, only that you bring a weapon and thrust it toward the opponent in such a way that it brings you glory, pride, some scabbing mend to a crooked scar.

Except not you, never you. They wouldn’t so much as allow for the women to watch unless sparring for the hand of a weeping bride happened to be the gleaming prize waiting at the end of the night.

Your eyes had witnessed such before, a girl with hair the color of autumn straw that rolled down to the end of her back, whisked away by some man from the sea after he dug his blade into an old farmer’s belly. Her father. A sad thing, but you imagined her life must be much better now. Instead of tending to a mule or pricking her fingers on needles for sewing, she’s off collecting sea shells and has the ocean’s breeze eternally perfumed in her hair. Maybe she cradles a baby on her hip now, plump and cooing happily whilst they watch the waves roll and glitter beneath the sun.

A better life for only the cost of a swift death. It was something that you had always envisioned wanting for yourself, away from this village that reeks of blood, the very place where your options were limited to shoveling after the horses or to die a lonely hag.

That was until the behemoth began to show his face. Not quite his face at all, actually. It changed things for you. Instead of a longing for one of these strong men to carry you off into the night, there sat a creeping terror each and every time he crossed the threshold into the village.

He was rumored to be many things: an executioner from a foreign land, either a lost and wicked saint or a demon made flesh, and worst of them all… a cannibal from out in the untamed downs that crest the mountainside.

The women of the village were frightened by him, by the bulk and height that suggested he was not a man at all, but something far more terrifying beneath that black veil. They hid away when he first arrived, claiming he carried an organ in his hands, chewing away at a still-beating heart with blood running down his fingers. The men remained rigid, but their hands shook when they took up their weapons against him.

And there was no way of knowing then that this man was to be yours.

Time and time again, the giant would win, request a warm meal and a bed for the evening, and would be gone away come morning. He wouldn’t return for months, and the gossip would continue to fester until his return. Then, only then, would lips be pursed in silence and another fool would rush to death in an attempt to win some measure of pride. His opponent would be buried in the very field they would fight in, his bones serving for another layer upon the earthen stage once the worms and rats had picked him clean, and the giant would be back. He was always back.

The town is hushed to silence when his horse is led through the well-worn street. There are lingering observers: the broad stable hand that would not even dare to raise a whip or a dagger to this behemoth, the women of the brothel even shy away from him, and the children who whisper their rumors behind open palms.

He does not stop for any of them, only carries forward with that dark cloth concealing his head.

You peek out from your window, nursing tea with honey to calm the chill drifting through the air, feathering over your skin. It’s bitter on your tongue, even with the sweet coursing through it. Bitter, when his blue eyes flick in your direction and you feel every inch of your skin begin to prickle and tense.

He’s worse up close like this. The man doesn’t conceal his torso, never seemed to find a need to— no one ever gets close enough to wound him. Not any more, at least, judging by the pasty scars that mar his chest with the biggest being a healed, pinkish blemish that stretches from below his ribs down to a narrow hip. You find the most unsettling part about him is not those marks of violence, but the fact that you can not read his face.

Time slows to a halt as he just stares, takes you in with your cup of tea and the old dress stolen away from your mother’s own wardrobe. And you return it, warily looking him over from his veiled head down to the toes of his boots. After regarding you in the very same way a bored cat would observe an unaware, little bird, he moves along his path with a quiet huff of breath as his face is turned away from you.

There’s a heavy axe strapped to his back that you only notice then. Something new and shiny, glistening in the rays of golden sunlight above. Sharp and wicked, too cruel a weapon to be used in a bout for dinner and a lumpy mattress stuffed with decaying straw.

You could only hope he brought a cloth to clean it once this ordeal was over. Perhaps he truly does use his veil to do so, gets drunk on the scent of blood and gore clinging to it and pleasures himself to the violence as they claim. The macabre tales of this giant only go darker than that. But the tales he lives up to most of all are the ones about his skill in killing.

When night begins to scrape across the sky in dark, drab purple, fate comes crawling throughout the town as though it is nothing more than a famished ghoul.

Your mother storms toward you where you’re sat, preparing for bed. Her face is a mask of pure anguish when she pulls you into a tight embrace. She bawls into your hair, digs her nails into your back as though she would sooner die than let you go.

The men of the town follow behind her, wrenching her arms away from you and pulling you up by the front of your gown. The thin linen tears with the force of rough hands, rips a thick line down your chest that almost leaves you bared to them. Though the hands are eager, the eyes of these men do not shine with hunger, only with fear.

The shouts and cries from your lips are lost to them, to even your mother who wails in defeat someplace behind you.

“You’re plenty old enough to be a bride,” says one of the men, voice like a coiled snake spitting venom. It doesn’t take one of the well-educated people of the capital here to explain just what is to happen to you now.

The giant, the cannibal, saw something that he liked, and decided that you would be his prize. When you’re led to the field, kicking and flailing against the strong arms that hold you tightly in their grip, the sight is enough to tell you just how much that he enjoyed your silent, curious staring only hours before.

He stands upright, silent and daunting above a body that’s been split by the axe still held in one strong hand. The color of crimson cakes his knuckles, crests over his arm and the expanse of his chest, all from the headless corpse lying disposed at his feet.

The scene is what you expected, you’ve heard the words of your people about this beast of a man’s propensity for violence, but no amount of mental preparation could have truly readied you for seeing so much blood. The blood of a man you knew to be good and true, a hard-working blacksmith from the foothills. What a tragic way to go out: fighting for a pouch of coin when this horrible giant must have clearly lost his mind to rut and rage.

No hand comes to cover your mouth when you shriek, and the tight grips guiding you forward only loosen when your man or murderer stalks forward to take his prize. Through your tears, you still manage to make out the lines beneath his eyes, how they fold upward, and there’s no doubt that he’s smiling beneath that mask. A big, ugly grin at the thought of prying open your ribs and helping himself to a maiden’s heart.

He lifts it over his head in a swift motion, and drops it over your own instead, opposite to the hastily cut eye holes to block out all of the hazy, pale light of the moon and flickering yellow-red torches surrounding. Amidst the panic threatening to send your heart fleeing from your chest, the cold trickle of dread that finds itself curling in your belly, you feel two arms hoist you up and settle you over the back of his wretched steed.

“Gehen wir.”

Then, the darkness turns abyssal.

You only pray your body has truly died of fright when you first wake. There’s no darkness, no scent of blood when your eyelids pry apart to flutter. Water laps over your bare thighs, cold enough to force a shiver up from your feet to the blades of your shoulders. But behind you sits fire, a warmth so comforting you would think you’re rested against a stone bathed in summer sun, if not for the softness.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, rationalize just what’s happening, until a hand clutching a scrap of cloth maneuvers up from your thigh to your tummy, lathers you in a soap that smells only of pine. It halts, cinches around your waist when you begin to tense, when he knows you’re truly awake. A pond to your front and a man of horror at your back.

There’s sunlight streaming down from above, painting the clouds in gold. There are birds happily singing from the surrounding trees, and other, unseen animals scurrying through fallen leaves. Serene, pretty, and almost comforting when the wind turns course and brings with it the scent of late-ripening fruit. If the reality of your situation were not so dire, perhaps you would have enjoyed it, being here with a man who killed instead of presented your family with a dowry or offered you some pleasant wedding to dine and drink your fill of berry wine at.

“Let me go.” Your voice is a feigned warning, the mocking growl of a mere pup. You imagine he must keep his weapons close, only offering himself the courtesy of cleaning you so your meat doesn’t taste of dirt or lavender oil when he sinks his teeth into it.

“Süss frau,” he mumbles behind you, presses his head into your hair and inhales deeply as your body only grows further rigid. There’s a pause, before he corrects himself. “Meine süss frau.”

It would help if you knew what he was saying, calm your nerves some, maybe, but each word spoken only sounds guttural and instills further fear. You twist in his grip, hissing small curses that would have left your mother in a rage, but he only laughs at your squirming. Then, he tightens his grip as the cloth is dropped into the pond’s glassy water.

“Take me back home,” you continue to urge, placing a trembling hand over the limb pressing your body further back against him. “Please.”

Your small attempt at pleading is met only with his head dropping to the nape of your neck, a kiss pressed against the flesh there. It warms for him, sends a heat spiking up to your cheeks in spite of the way you still suspect he wishes only to rip your throat open with teeth more akin to a devil’s fangs.

You turn your head, intent on spitting right in this monster’s face, but find only a man looking back at you.

There’s a shimmer in his eyes that almost seems playful, a grin so prevalent there it must cause the corners of his mouth to ache. No blood in his teeth, and though the silvery-blue of his eyes seems distant, they are not cold. The goliath who stole you away stinking of blood and innards isn’t present now, and that seems even less of a comfort. He’s even handsome in the strangest way, certainly not the look of nobility, but none of his features are cruel. There’s a boyish charm to him, perhaps he would have the look of a charismatic farmhand or an apprentice of sorts if not for the scarring.

“Won’t hurt you… too pretty,” he assures, burying his face against the side of your neck. But the bastard does, digs his teeth right in and suckles at your skin when you claw at his arm in surprise. It’s not enough to draw drops of blood, but it accentuates the point that he seems to see you as something of his, a possession of sorts.

There’s a messy patch of drool over bruising skin when he pulls away to laugh at the wounded expression upon your face. He apologizes in a huff of breath as he guides you up to stand at his side. His hands linger too long for comfort when they rest along your waist. Your sullen glare only seems to further endear him. Too much, judging by the way the pillar between his legs bounces thick and hard and proud, throbs when you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze and angrily hiss to him about how a man should treat his wife. Cannibal or not, the beast needed to learn some manners.

Fear still edges its way up your spine, but it diminishes more and more as the seconds pass.

He’s no gentleman when he splashes away the remnants of soap from your body, hands grazing over every inch of your bare skin he sees available to touch. Your breast first, weighed up in his palm with the nipple pinched between his index and middle. Emboldened by your hushed protests, he dares to slip his other between your legs, and only then do you force his hands away.

He certainly bears no resemblance to a proper husband when he hoists you over one shoulder to carry you further into the woods and into his shack, either.

It’s barren and ugly, an unsightly wooden structure decorated only with a thin mattress, a table too small, and blades of many forms. The axe sits proudly below the window, astonishingly cleaned of the gore from the night prior. The veil rests above it on the sill, damp from a cleaning that never should have been. You stare at his belongings for a time when you’re placed on your feet, silently judging the array in search of anything to justify the gossip, only to come up short of anything.

He doesn’t even touch you past the bathing in the pond. You’re dressed in a tunic that fits like a dress upon your form: far too big, long and dull to be anything you would normally be seen in. But there are no tailors this far out in the wilderness, though there’s an apologetic promise whispered to you once he sees you in his clothes. He’ll buy you a new dress upon your first visit to town as his wife, several if it pleases you.

The man leaves for a spell, brings you rabbit to clean and prepare, then busies himself stoking up a fire for cooking. His speech is a little broken when he tells you of how long he’s waited to have someone like you here with him, how he never suspected a woman so pretty would be his wife. And you don’t eat when the meat is fully cooked and placed in front of you both. You insist that you only wish to return back home, to hug your mother and tell her that you’re still alive.

That, he takes insult to.

His brow is pinched when he forces you to sit in his lap. He brings the meat to your lips and presses into your cheeks with his free hand to force your mouth open. There’s nothing romantic or cute about it, about him, but you do glumly settle in his hold when the realization does dawn on you that, though his strength is extraordinary, he is only a man and the only harm coming to you would be between your legs.

You’re drug over to the mattress after dinner by a tight hold over your wrist. The fight hasn’t left you, not by a smidge, even when the loose tunic is lifted over your head with shouts of your displeasure and you’re pressed onto your back with the giant watching you curiously from above.

He pins you there, but doesn’t force his hands down to your sex again. He only sighs when he rests his weight next to you and curls in to lie his head over your breasts.

You’re body remains stiff and rigid as a bowstring. His nearness only sends that same swell of heat back from the pond, brings with it the scent of fire smoke and sweat emanating from him. His hair is long and soft, soft as the kisses he places on the plushness of your tit, long as the drag of a callused palm from your hip up to cup the other.

He offers you no warning when his teeth circle over your nipple, holds fast to you when your back arches and your fingers weave into his hair to jerk him away. The worst part about him seemed to be having a penchant for leaving a mark, and the smug grin that crosses his face when he meets the fury in your eyes with the lust-drunk look in his own.

“Was? You don’t like?,” he grumbles, tracing over the marks of his teeth with his thumb, pressing against and smearing his saliva until you feel your back begin to arch and your breathing grow heavy.

“It hurts.”

He stares at you in amazement for a moment, whether surprised you haven’t made an attempt to flee or startled by the lack of a strike to his jaw after such a thing, it mattered not. Your terrible, ignorant “husband” only seems satisfied with your response. He draws back to sit on his knees before you, sliding his hands along each curve and dip of your body until they rest at your ankles.

“Ja… hurts. I will make it better, meine süße.”

He’s no less brazen when he makes a dive toward your womanhood, lips parted in preparation to breathe you in. Or… taste you in full, whichever option was suited for men who were more beasts than men at all. Maybe that was his only feat of cannibalism: licking at women until they were wet and pliant for him to take entirely. You pry him away with a gasp and a quick shift onto your side, demanding that he not touch you any further.

Again, he laughs, curls behind you and shifts his hips to slot the girth of his cock between your thighs, buries his face into your neck once again. You can feel the grin that stretches over his lips against your skin. When the dark envelopes you both, the quiet crackle of the fire in its pit still showing signs of life, he seems content to just cuddle you close.

Exhaustion creeps its way through your limbs, steals the fight from your voice and leaves your eyelids heavy. You consider waiting it out, listening to his breathing deepen and slow to creep away, but his grip is firm around your middle, so strangely comforting that you do allow yourself to relax. Running could wait until the morning sun rose.

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . HOUSE OF BALLOONS!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ SITUATIONSHIP GETO SUGURU X F!READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW : extreme toxicity; possessiveness; stalking; relationship sabotage; obsession; suguru is CRAZY, bro is an actual mastermind; reader cheats on her bf w/ suguru; consensual recording; manipulation; reader is a bit dumb; pet names used are baby, dollface, minx, lovely, angel; smut; dry humping, throat fucking, throat bulging, fingering, ruined orgasms, breeding kink, baby trapping, a mix of degradation and praise, breath play, slight bondage, edging & overstimulation, dumbification, sado-madochism, pain play, branding (suguru puts a cigarette out on reader three times as a way of claiming), cervix fucking, sir kink, HINTS of somnophilia (brief description of suguru fucking reader while she’s asleep); dick drunk reader; suguru has a dick piercing; pregnancy.

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc : 8.3k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ guys this is actually so nasty and feral, im so so so sorry. this is based off that jjk men loyalty post and suguru was placed in the middle because he would situationship the FUCK out of you. and worse? i’d probably fall for it and do it too. so then i wrote an entire fucking fic. and i’m so so sorry because this is actually pure filth. i don’t know what happened to me guys… suguru is just actually so nghh

A SITUATIONSHIP WITH SUGURU GETO is essentally the same as signing a contract giving away the rest of your life. because once you entered it, you were no longer able to get out. it started sweet, of course. suguru was good to you, despite not being your boyfriend. maybe that was what caused the sources of your problems.

you wanted to date suguru and the both of you knew it. despite the fact that you acted like a couple — kissing, going out together, having sex, even saying that dreaded l-word — you two didn’t have an official relationship. and it genuinely drove you insane. especially when suguru got a little too close with girls, knowing your attachment to him.

you told yourself that you couldn’t really be mad because you weren’t dating. so, you started doing the same thing, expanding your options.

and suguru didn’t like that very much.

you two often had explosive arguments that either went one of two ways; one of you blocking the other and severing communication or the desperate confessions of love to keep each other around.

and when he gets blocked, it doesn’t take suguru long to contact you somehow or someway. whether it be following you on a different account, or going as far as showing up to your home, he gets to you again.

it’s an endless cycle that constantly leaves you overwhelmed and emotionally drained. the intense love you have for suguru is undeniable. it’s undeniable in the way you let him back, the way you willingly go back.

every time you hit that unblock button, your friends look at you with concern and express their disappointment, warning you that he isn't good for you.

and deep down, you know they're right. of course, you're aware of the potential harm and negative consequences. but can't they understand the depth of your emotions? you’re in love with him. over time, your friends gradually stop shaking their heads in disapproval. instead, they simply roll their eyes when his name is brought up in conversation. it’s as if they've given up on trying to convince you otherwise.

however, suguru soon reaches his final chance, when you find out he’s been fucking one of your friends. this time, there’s no argument. you’re swift, blocking every one of his socials you know, deleting & blocking his number. that was it. you were free.

a year passes by, and you’re sure you’ve moved on. you got a new boyfriend, who’s sweet, and so dedicated to you. suguru hasn’t tried to contact you, even though he’d never be able to. you move from your college dorm, to live with your devoted boyfriend, you get a new job at a local cafe. you’ve never been happier, and everything is going so good for you.

almost too good.

suguru is a dedicated man, which you had seemed to forget. the entire time you thought he had left you alone, that he too had moved on; well, you were wrong.

moving didn’t hide you from him, even if you thought it did. he eventually found out from one of your friends, and you. you may have blocked some of his instagram accounts, but not all.

you often posted the scenery of your new area. and your boyfriend. it wasn’t hard to pinpoint you from there. you also posted about working at a cafe. so he searched up the cafes in the area — it couldn’t be too far, because he knew you weren’t a fan of driving long distances.

it gave him three options.

three different cafes. so here’s how he found you; it really wasn’t hard. he put on a mask over his nose and mouth, tucked his long dark hair into his hoodie. he went to the first cafe, and he asked a simple question. “is y/n on the clock today? she’s the only one who makes my order correctly.”

from the first two, he got a, “y/n? we don’t have an employee by that name.”

but the third one, god it must’ve been luck. because when he asked, he got the most blissful answer.

“y/n? oh, she works from 8am - 2pm on saturdays and sundays, but she works from 2pm to 8pm on mondays, tuesdays and thursdays.”

that was so much more than he bargained for, but god was he ecstatic. she told him your schedule? that coworker must’ve had it out for you, or something. but who was he to question her and her helpfulness?

what he had to do was obvious from there. he began to frequent your job on the days you worked, however only when you had just left.

he kept it this way, until that faithful day.

it was his usual routine. he had came to the cafe on sunday, at 2:30pm. you should’ve been long gone by now, so he thought. but there you were, working the register, with a sweet smile on your face and a bedazzled name tag on your breast.

you’re even more beautiful in person, he realizes. those eye bags you used to have faded away, and your smile is bright. you’re as perfect as he left you. only problem? you allowed yourself to be stained by another man. but it was okay, suguru assumed — he’d clean you up.

he doesn’t hesitate to get in the line to buy something, even though it’s so rare when he does. he comes to the counter with eyes and shaky breaths, acting like he’s just as surprised to see you.

your eyes are as wide as saucers when you finally set on him. you didn’t see him immediately come through the door, so you didn’t see him for a while… until there were only two people in front of him in the line.

you were internally panicking and screaming, your heart beating so fast you thought it may crack one of your ribs . how did he find you? what does he want? and beyond that, how handsome he looked — however, you shoved these thoughts down. you had a boyfriend now, and you were never engaging with suguru again. simple as that.

“what’re you doing here?” he breathes out as he reaches the counter. you’re beyond shocked, eyes widening as you blink at him. “no, what are you doing here? i work here. you don’t even drink coffee.” and it’s true; in all your time together, suguru never touched a cup of coffee. he swallows, hard, and you wonder just exactly he’s thinking as he stares at you from underneath his thick lashes.

“i have… lately,” his voice is gentle, sad almost, “i come here daily for coffee. speaking of… can i get a large of straight black dark roast? with a dash of cream and sugar.” you nod and hastily go to make it. when you come back, he shifts, rocking side to side. “i want to apologize to you. for everything. can… can we talk when you get off?”

and you should’ve known better. you really should have. but you’re stupid enough to say yes.

he waits several hours for you; you tell him you’re working a double, and you’ll be closing the store. he doesn’t mind, it seems, especially when he helps you mop and clean, helping stack up chairs. it reminds you of how gentle suguru was with you. when it’s time to go, he questions, “you walk home?” when you nod, he scowls, obviously still slightly protective over you. it warms your heart, but you force it to freeze back over.

however, it remelts when he pushes you to the inside of the sidewalk, standing on the side closest to the street. “my boyfriend and i live around the block, so i just walk here and back. i never really get any trouble.” suguru hums; you’re setting that boundary early on.

i’ve moved on from you, you’re telling him subliminally, i’m with someone new. it’s funny that you think suguru cares.

the two of you are silent as you walk, and you find yourself questioning whether or not he’s going to apologize; or is he just using this opportunity to get close to you again? you get your answer when a few minutes later, he stops and turns to you.

“y/n,” his voice is husky and it’s cold enough that his exhalation of your name leaves a white mist, “i’m sorry, for everything. i was wrong to put you through those things. you’re such a sweet girl; you didn’t deserve it.” and a part of him means it, truly. he would’ve done things differently if he knew you were going to leave. “can we be friends? please?”

you feel the cold tears prick your eyes, and you nod, once, then twice. you sniff and whimper out a sweet, “yeah, suguru. we can be friends again.”

that’s your biggest mistake.

because now that you’ve allowed suguru in your life again, you’ve just given him the green light to do what he does best. spiral things into his control. he starts out with small things, starting with planting a seed of insecurity.

you had let him meet your boyfriend, at your boyfriend’s insistence, to prevent insecurity. his boyfriend knew all about suguru, so to say that he was a bit hostile was a bit of an understatement. suguru was the epitome of calm, all kind smiles towards your boyfriend. it was almost… embarrassing for you. your boyfriend was almost childish; when you cooked for the three, and your boyfriend set the table, he refused to get a plate for suguru. suguru took it in stride, however, only laughing it off. this was damn near perfect for suguru; he was going to lie, but your boyfriend was so fucking stupid, he basically laid out the soil for suguru’s seeds.

what’s worse was the fact that suguru is both taller and more muscular than your boyfriend; and whenever suguru stood and looked down at him, your boyfriend would jeer. later, your beloved expressed his slight inferiority. you did your best to reassure him, but anytime you mentioned suguru, he seemed to bristle. ‘it isn’t like that,’ you’d plead to him, with hands out, ‘we’re just becoming friends again, i swear!’

of course, you’d eventually go to tell suguru that you had to distance, in order to preserve your relationship.

he was understanding, yes, but not without a, “why doesn’t he trust you enough to let us be friends?” and maybe that stuck with you a bit. a week later, suguru drops off two plates of your favorite food. he says he was making it, and thought you’d enjoy the meal. he even brought a plate for your boyfriend. you’re ecstatic — as the meal isn’t one you often find in stores, and when you do, it isn’t cook to the fullest. however, while the two of you were … engaging, suguru learned to make it perfectly.

you’re all smiles and cheers, while your boyfriend is livid. suguru doesn’t overstay his welcome and departs with a smile and a nice goodbye for you both.

the argument ensues from there.

“i thought you cut him off?” your boyfriend asks you, his voice snappy and filled with anger. you raise your eyebrows, still holding the two plates in your hands as you move to the kitchen. you reply,”you didn’t ask me to. you told me to distance, and i did. me and suguru haven’t talked much at all since then.”

“then why is he dropping off food for you?” your boyfriend shoots back, almost immediately. you place the food on the counter and turn to him, feeling your irritation simply growing and growing. “for us, you mean,” you correct sassily, furrowing your eyebrows, “it would be different if the food was only for me. but there’s some for you too. he was being thoughtful.”

“why can’t you so obviously see that he’s a manipulative asshole?” your boyfriend yells as he throws his hands up, pacing around the couch. “how dim are you? he did it while you two were fucking around, and he’s doing it now! i don’t want you to be friends with him anymore.”

you’re bubbling over. so he’s calling you stupid now? you feel your irritation shift into anger instead. “you don’t get to tell me who i can and can’t be friends with because of your own fucking insecurities. you don’t get to do that shit, you don’t get to make something out of nothing. and most of all, you don’t get to throw my past experiences that i trusted you with into my fucking face.” you’re grabbing your food, and your coat simultaneously.

“wait, where are you going?” your boyfriend asks, his voice suddenly dropping from a yell to a concerned croon. your shoving your arm into a coat sleeve as you huff, “somewhere to cool off. you’ve pissed me off and now i don’t even want to be in this fucking house.”

your boyfriend wants to protest, but he doesn’t. he purses his lips, and he nods, before mumbling out a, “be safe. keep your location on, please?”

begrudgingly, you nod, before leaving.

of course, you end up at geto’s. you’re venting your frustrations as you eat the meal he prepared. it hadn’t even been an hour since he dropped off the food, and here you were. it’s how he knew that his plans were working, and god was he ecstatic. of course, he couldn’t seduce you right here and now, no. it’s much too early. he has to keep throwing the rock at the window, over and over. until it finally breaks.

this throw is only a crack in your window.

those arguments begin to happen more frequently, suguru’s large crack gives way to more and more little cracks, until you’re at your wits end. you’re not gonna break up with your boyfriend yet, but you’re starting to get aggravated. suguru figures it’s time for him to implement his plan.

you’re laying on his couch after an explosive argument between you and your boyfriend about geto seemingly “flirting” with you: suguru had bought tickets for the ballet for all three of you; your boyfriend refused to go, falling right into suguru’s trap. you were aggravated with him — he denied every opportunity to actually make sure no flirting would happen and denied. then got mad at you for enjoying yourself. but you wouldn’t allow that, tonight. you went to see the ballet with suguru, and honestly the two of you had a wonderful time.

but then, your dress had ripped so suguru held it together until the two of you got into the car. you had walked into the house, suguru shuffling behind you and your boyfriend went ballistic, claiming that suguru ripped it himself.

now, suguru didn’t even plan this one — but your boyfriend was just so good at being a little helper. while suguru watched the argument awkwardly, trying his best to ‘deescalate’ the argument, while intentionally making it worse. you ended up leaving with suguru, ripped dress and all.

now here you are, sitting on his couch, with tears streaming down your beautiful made-up face. suguru’s cooing to you through your distress, giving your back gentle rubs. “he’s such a dick, y/n,” suguru murmurs as you blubber out your frustrations, “i can’t believe he got so worked up… it’s starting to piss me off, too. i even bought a ticket for him to come with us.”

you let out a cry of agreement, going, “which was so nice of you! he complains about us being alone but never come when he’s invited! it’s so… so…!”

“hypocritical,” he finishes for you, pulling you to lean on his shoulder. you comply, even when his hand slides to rub at your hips. “i wasn’t the greatest, but… god, even i didn’t do you like that. didn’t he call you stupid or something a week ago? i actually don’t think i’ve ever done that.” he laughs it off like a joke, but watches your reaction carefully.

the words have you thinking back. no, suguru hadn’t ever called you stupid. when he started getting jealous, he never put you in situations to be jealous over. he was never childish like your boyfriend… your brows furrow and you pout, hesitantly nodding. suguru smiles; it’s working. he takes this a sign to keep talking.

“and i noticed that like… he barely posts you. like you have a highlight for him on insta, and he doesn’t have one for you,” he begins, continuing to caress your skin, before pulling a pack of his favorite cigarettes out of his pocket. “and i don’t mean to infringe on your relationship, y/n.. it’s just weird to me. considering that i had a highlight for you even when we weren’t dating.”

you pause, lightly leaning into suguru’s touch. he’s not wrong… in fact, he’s very right. your boyfriend always told you that he didn’t post you a lot because he didn’t want people in your relationship business. you had accepted it at the time, but now suguru’s words had you questioning.

“am i overstepping?” suguru asks gently, his hand still rubbing your hip, pulling you into him as he exhales cigarette smoke. his dark violet eyes focus on you, and you examine his features, like you used to do before.

his long hair is pulled into his trademark half-up half-down style. slim eyes looking down at you with an all too familiar glaze. his angular, perfect features that had to been crafted by god. he’s… he’s so much prettier… you curse yourself for even thinking it, but he’s so much prettier than your boyfriend. he licks his lips as he watches you watch him. his head tilts slightly.

“maybe your boyfriend wasn’t wrong, though,” he says, voice husky — it sends unwanted shivers down your spine. “maybe i haven’t been exactly appropriate to you. maybe i do want you back.”

you swallow hard, slight shock flooding you. you expected it but didn’t at the same time. even though all those times you vented and brought up how your boyfriend was convinced suguru wanted you, suguru never confirmed or denied. only soothed you.

you don’t know what to say, or how you feel but you know it’s wrong. “n-no, suguru,” you force yourself to say, “it’s wrong. a-and you already had a chance. so many chances.” your scooting away, but suguru is pulling you back to him.

his lips press against your ear as he whispers, “c’mon, baby… please? i learned my lesson. i can’t bare to see another man treat you like this, when i know… we both know… i have my problems, but i can treat you so much better.” you’re trying to pull away, but your body and your heart is too familiar with suguru. you ache, despite knowing that it’s wrong. it’s cheating.

“suguru, i-i can’t cheat..!” you whimper pathetically, and suddenly, he’s pushing you down onto the couch, sliding on top of you. you moan, as you feel him press against you, cursing yourself.

“there it is,” suguru hisses, lifting his cigarette to his wet lips again, “moaning just based off that? he hasn’t been fucking my girl right, now has he?”

“not your girl..!” you gasp as he presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your neck. you protest out of guilt, but god, you don’t stop him.

because just like he said, you both know. your boyfriend couldn’t, in no way, compared to suguru geto.

“not my girl?” suguru whispers as he kisses up your jawline, “you sure? because you’re gasping and whining out like you are. you’ve always been mine, y/n. you know you have. let me take care of you, baby. come back home.”

there’s an ache in your pussy, and you’re sure that it’s your sexual organ talking when you whine, “okay, suguru, j-just please… please fuck me.” the need you feel overwhelms the guilt as suguru presses his clothed dick against you.

you can feel him, pressing against you through your panties, and the squeal you let out makes suguru laugh. he’s sliding you up with one hand and into his lap. he hikes your dress up to your hips and you think he’s going to take you right then and there; but no. instead he presses you down against his crotch, forcing you to get off on the feeling of his covered dick simply pressing against you.

“s-suguru! c’mon, give me more, please!” you mewl as you grip his broad shoulders desperately. you watch as he lifts his cigarette to his lips. “nuh uh,” he says as he exhales, “you’re going to pay for leaving me for some bitch who can’t even fuck you right. ride me jus’ like this, y/n. and don’t stop until i say so.”

and unfortunately, you’re obedient and desperate for any shred of stimulation you can get. you began grinding your hips down against suguru through his slacks, his hardened dick rubbing against your pussy through your panties. you’re so wet that you begin to gush through the thin cotton of your panties, dripping onto suguru’s slacks in a puddle.

you don’t say anything however, yearning for the intense pleasure that suguru always gave you. that year away from suguru must’ve made you forget; nobody will ever fuck you as good as he does.

he watches as you clutch onto him, pathetically grinding and shaking your hips down onto your lap, whining as your panties rub against your clit just right. in a few minutes or so, you’re even ready to cum. suguru has your habits memorized when you were close, and that hasn’t changed.

you still tremble, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. your eyes cross a little and your back arches. suguru grins. oh, you’re so close, aren’t you?

“stop.”

he chuckles darkly, and when you don’t listen the first time, he pulls you off of him. you let out a mix of a sob and a moan, your face twisting into something pitiful. “suguru!” you wail, fat tears spilling over. “i was so fucking close! why would you do that?”

suguru gracefully puts you on the floor between his legs, laughing at your plight. “oh, i never said you’d cum, dollface. i just told you to do it. but it’s okay, my dumb girl. ‘m gonna reward you a different way.” he begins unbuttoning the slacks as you perch between his legs. he’s rolling the black pants down his thighs, along with his boxers and there it is.

his dick bounces free. it’s long, and has a nasty curve upwards. he’s thick too — scarily so. his tip is fat and a perfect round shape. it’s a dark tan, a few shades darker than his skin. and it’s decorated with a silver reverse prince albert piercing. precum slides out, a silky white color. you feel drool collect in your mouth as his dick hovers above you.

“you know what to do,” suguru tells you with an expectant look, his cigarette perched perfectly between his lips, “open your mouth and let me use you. uh huh, just like that lovely, stick out that tongue…” you do as he tells you, hands on his knees as you lean up; tongue out, eyes locked with suguru’s.

he slaps his dick on your tongue a few times, before he slides his length into your mouth. immediately, your lips enclose around him. his hand laces into your hair, using it as leverage to pull your head down his length. you gag fiercely around him, hands moving from his knees to his thighs, digging into his skin.

suguru smokes his cigarette with hazy eyes as he pushes your head down his dick, and back up. the noise your throat makes when his tip hits your uvula is wet and messy, and god does he love it.

your slobbing down his length, your spit trickling down his balls; your eyes are filled with tears, a few even spilling over. however, your plump lips stay wrapped around him. you suck your cheeks in and gaze up at him, submission coating your every movement. your tongue slides against the glands on his dick, making him let out a soft groan.

“take this dick down your throat just like that, whore, fuck,” he rasps to you, his movements becoming a little more aggressive, “did you suck on him like this? lookin’ up at me all pretty. bet you didn’t suck his dick like you needed it; didn’t show him how much of a fucking whore you are, hm?” he puts his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, and then he slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “i think we should. is that okay?” as best as you can, you nod, still swallowing up his dick.

suguru is on his phone for a few seconds, before laughing out, “ha! he texted me. he wants me to bring you fuckin’ home. too bad; you’re already home, right, baby?” of course, you don’t answer. your mouth is too stuffed full of his dick. suguru gets rougher then. his original languid pace is discarded, and he begins to push and pull himself out of your mouth. his tip rams against your uvula, before sliding into your throat. you’re choking for air, sputtering. he’s fucking your throat so cruelly, there’s a bulge in your throat every time he sheaths himself in your mouth.

you try to pull in air through your nose, but it’s too hard to focus when suguru is pressing your face into his pelvis, his heady scent filling you and making you dizzy. or was that just the lack of oxygen? you realize that he’s recording your pathetic display. you’re a fucking mess, pussy drooling as he ruins you.

“shiiit, angel,” he curses, head thrown back, and his locks messy around his shoulders. his bottom lip between his teeth, “gonna cum. gonna cum in your mouth, and you’re gonna swallow every fuckin’ drop, understand?”

you swirl your tongue around him, letting him know you’re ready. his thrusts become reckless, before he spills his load inside of your mouth. his cum tastes nice, as always — it has a slightly bitter tang to it, but you take it in stride. as he slides his softened dick out of your mouth, you open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out; showing him his cum coating your mouth.

his phone captures it all.

“is this your girlfriend?” he taunts the camera, grabbing your cheeks and bringing your mouth closer to the phone as cum dribbles down your chin. “look at her. that’s my cum. this is my girl.” you swallow his cum then, and suguru lets out a coo of, “good slut.” before he’s ending the video and sending it.

as soon as he releases your face, you’re sucking in big breaths of air, coughing and sputtering and wiping your eyes from the tears. he rubs your head while you do so, letting out soft coos of reasurance.

he sits back for a second, sliding his dick back into his slacks, before telling you, “go to my room and get undressed. i’ll be there in a minute.” he watches you nod and scamper up, going up the stairs to his room, your hips swaying.

suguru picks up his put out cigarette as he watches your boyfriend trip out about the video, both of your phones dinging with notifications. he lets out a laugh.

suguru always gets what he wants eventually, especially you.

he’s getting up to follow behind you then, pulling off his tie in the process. suguru can feel his own desperation and need for you setting in. it had been a year and a few months; in that time, he didn’t engage much in sex and romantic relationships. none of them were you.

and even now, when he gets to his room and you’re sat on his bed, eyes soft and legs slightly spread as you wait for him, he knows.

none of them will ever be you.

suguru stares at you, almost unnervingly as he walks into the room, leaning against the wall. it makes you self-conscious, curling into yourself as you press your hands against your body to shield yourself.

“don’t.” suguru says, and he walks to you, grabbing your arms. “i need to see all of you.” before you could even respond, he’s wrapping his tie around your wrists.

“suguru?” you question gently as the black fabric wraps around your hands, keeping you bound. suguru shushes you, before picking you up and moving you to the top of the bed. “shh, lovely. i gotta fuck those thoughts of your ‘boyfriend’ out of you. so you’re gonna be a good whore and you’re gonna take it. understood?”

“yes sir,” you whisper as he lays you down, before his hands are spreading your thighs, to reveal your pretty pussy; soaked with your self-lubrication. you move your bound hands to cover yourself, but suguru knocks them away. “put your hands away, what’re you covering yourself for? i know your body like the back of my hand.”

and he’s right, so you try your best to relax. your tensity is immediately forgotten when he puts a finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles against it. you shiver and let out a dulcet moan, a lovely sing of, “suguru— mnngh, fuck..” he takes so much pride in the way he makes you feel, the way he makes you cry out and arch your back just due to his finger rubbing against your clit.

“shh, dollface,” suguru says as he sits between your legs, spreading them more. his large hand wraps around your calf to put your leg up. his finger trails from your clit to your sopping hole, before sliding two fingers inside.

the stretch from just two of suguru’s fingers had you letting out mellifluous moans, squirming in his hold. he held you still while he pushed his fingers inside of you until they were knuckle deep, thumb pressing against your clit.

suguru was slow and methodical with the way he fingered you; sliding his fingers out slowly just to thrust them back in a fast pace, fingertips curling against your warm, gummy walls. your slick was dripping down onto his palm as he rocked his finger into you.

you were his mess, letting out whines as his long, thick fingers scissored inside of you, pressing against your g-spot. “he couldn’t get you like this, now could he?” suguru asked as he pressed his fingers against your g-spot again, making you squeal. you didn’t answer at first, but when he added a third finger inside of you, hissing out, “fucking answer me.” you were quick to babble out, “no, sugu! no, no, no, he could never get me like this… only you, only you!”

suguru chuckles in satisfaction as he watches you struggle to hold on to the sheets with your bound wrists. “fuckin’ slut,” he muses, “cheating on your boyfriend like some fucking whore who can’t keep her legs closed.” he tuts, and shame floods through you; however, it’s eradicated by the way he curls his fingers against your g-spot, his quick but precise thrusting hitting it every time. your juices are all over his hand, sloppy noises echoing through the room. the way suguru looks at you has your heart beating in your fucking ovaries.

you’re close, euphoria is spreading through your body and your stomach is tightening. your pussy is contracting around suguru’s fingers as you whimper, “i’m sorry…! sorry for bein’ a slut, sir.”

“i forgive you,” he laughs a little bit, as your eyes roll back. “you’re my slut, of course. you’ll always belong to me; always be mine, no matter where you go.” right as your pussy begins to spasm around him, and your body begins to twitch, eyes rolling back again — he slides his fingers out of you.

the sob you let out is tremendous, bordering on a scream. suguru only watches as you sob, fat tears rolling down your already ruined face as you sob out different variations of ‘why?’ and ‘i wanted to cum!’ through your tears as you glare up at him. suguru only watches your pathetic, desperate display as he begins to fully undress. his eyebrow raised as he watches you, slightly smirking. you’re so cute, so desperate for him. he loves when you get like this.

by the time he’s fully naked, you’re facedown into the blankets, still whimpering, your sobs slowing. suguru wants to laugh, but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. he crawls on the bed towards you, grabbing you and turning you over onto your back. you look up at him with teary eyes as he hovers above you. your bound hands reaches up, and you mange to press the back of your hand to his cheek. oh, how you missed this sight.

your hands sneak to his hair, and you pull out his ponytail. his hair falls around his shoulders, and he smiles at you; a genuine smile, and you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle. he leans down, sliding his lips against yours as his hand wraps around your throat loosely. suguru tastes like sweet cigarettes, like a mix of nicotine and love and sex. you don’t know how else to describe it.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you feverishly. you try your best to keep up with his insistent lips, as his tongue curls against the roof of your mouth.

“m-missed you more,” you rasped back against his lips.

you guys are pulling away occasionally to gaze at each other sweetly at his other hand trails down your body, caressing you wherever he can. he’s devouring your lips, hand slightly tightening on your neck. “love you, y/n,” he whispers, before continuing on like it was never said.

your heart pumps, and before you realize it, your lips are moving to say, “love you more, suguru,” you feel him grin into the kiss, and it becomes more desperate. it’s messy, the way he kisses you — the way he laps at your mouth and begs for more of you, all of you.

you can’t help but give.

his tip rubs against your hole, his piercing cold against your heat. on instinct, you let out a slight hiss at the feeling. he shushes you gently, as he pushes his hips forward slowly. the stretch of him has your head falling back, and your eyes rolling. your mouth falls open in an o, but you’re unable to make a noise, as if he’s snatched it out of you.

pain mixes with pure pleasure as he feeds your greedy cunt inch after inch of him. your body is trembling as you feel his piercing scratch your g-spot, making you gasp out, before said piercing is nudging your cervix. his curved dick has you going insane, hitting spots you forgot you had. above you, suguru is as much of a mess as you are.

he’s panting, irises so dilated that it’s just black with a ring of dark violet. one hand is gripping your hips, the other squeezing your throat as he spears you on his dick, soft moans escaping his lips. “fuck, angel,” he groaned as he threw his head back, “missed this pussy s’much. you’re taking me so well, look…” you manage to look down, watching as suguru pulls out of you before snapping his hips into yours.

the single, experimental thrust has you seeing stars. your tied hands are pushed above your head by suguru and he holds your hands, keeping them there. he pulls your legs to rest on his shoulders, and you blank. because now, the angle is different, and he’s pulling out and—

the rough thrust he blesses you with has you whimpering out his name, and that’s just the beginning. it doesn’t stop from there, no. he releases your hands, going to grip your throat again as he begins to stuff you full, slamming into you over and over.

that hand on your throat tightens just how you like it, until your noises are gasped and raspy, and there’s black spots swimming in your vision. this, paired with the way suguru pushes his hips into yours, bullying your pussy, has you teetering on the edge.

suguru knows this. he knows your body far too well, much more than you’d like. he knows that when he trails a hand down to your breasts, to pull and twist at your nipples like he does right now, it only shoves you closer to the edge. “don’t cum,” he whispers to you, “i didn’t even really get started, doll. don’t tell me you’re gonna cum just from a few strokes like this?” he smirks down at you, as his thrusts pause. the hand around your throat sliding up to rub his thumb on your bottom lip. the slight relief has you sucking in deep breaths, trying to regain your voice.

suguru decides to help you. he resumes his fierce thrusts, ripping a croaked cry of, “suguru—!” out of you. he picks up speed, jackhammering into you, and your nails dig into the palm of your hand as you’re forced to grip your own hands. he’s fucking you like this, and you’re supposed to not cum? his thrusts snatch the barely regained air out of your lungs, forcing more tears into your eyes.

your clit throbs painfully, your stomach tight as you try to hold on to the orgasm that is so close, too close to washing over you. “can’t control yourself?” suguru taunts from above you with a slight laugh, “fuck, baby, you’re a mess. got your fucking juices drippin’ down my balls,” he let out another chuckle, “pussy just clenched around me too. you like when i make fun of you, don’t you? masochistic cumwhore.” he grips your face, watching your tits bounce fiercely with every thrust.

“it huuuurts, sugu,” you whimper in an agonizingly sweet voice, “please let me cum, please, please, i can’t take it..! please, sir, it hurts…!”

“you love it when it hurts, though,” he tuts at you, his hair hanging in his face, and above you as he keeps up his thrusts. you let out a desperate, pained whine and he softens. just a little. but he doesn’t let you cum yet. instead, he leans down, lips pressed to your ear, “say you won’t leave me, ever again. say you won’t go anywhere.”

you know it’s a trap, but you fall into it anyways. “i won’t! i won’t leave you again, i promise, p-please just let me cum. i won’t go anywhere, i won’t ever have anyone else! j-just please…”

“cum.” suguru says one word, and immediately, you do. your eyes roll back, your body seizes, and your pussy clenches so impossibly tight around him that he can’t even pull out.

“shit—!” he hisses, hands gripping your hips. your clenching sends him over the edge too, his cum pumping into you. he didn’t mean to cum inside of you, no. but now it’s given him an idea. “fuckin’ minx, pussy clamped so hard on me, it had me cum in you,” he rasped as he pressed his lips to your sweaty skin.

you want to care, you really do. you want to panic and make a scene, but god, you don’t fucking care. the feeling of having his cum inside of you feels too good. you didn’t even let your boyfriend cum inside of you. should you be ashamed of yourself? you don’t know. actually, scratch that. once again, you don’t fucking care. all you can murmur is, “just… don’t do it again.”

you don’t care because your mind is foggy, the best kind of foggy. the orgasmic haze you’re in has you blissed out as you’re splayed across suguru’s bed.

suguru is marking you, biting, licking, sucking at your neck, collarbone and chest until they’re littered with reddish-purple hickeys, along with the hand print from him choking. if he’s going to bring you home to your boyfriend, he’s going to bring you back with a message. he grabs his cigarette and his lighter. he lights it, and takes a puff, before looking down at you. “this is gonna hurt,” he tells you, and you connect the dots immediately. you shake your head at him, but he shushes you. “be a good slut, and let me do this. don’t move, or it’s gonna hurt more.”

you go completely still, biting your lip as tears appear on your lash line. he softens when he sees you like this, scared. his hand presses against your face, trying to soothe you. even as he presses his cigarette against your collarbone. in order to distract you, he begins to thrust again. the pain and pleasure fight for dominance over your body, and you focus on the pleasure; even though the smell of your burning flesh fills the room. he puts out his cigarette two more times on your skin, before pressing kisses to the scars.

“i have to make sure that you, and everyone else, know that you belong to someone.” he whispers to you, still pressing kisses to the spot. you barely understand him though, because you feel like you’re fading. drowning in a sea of pleasure that he’s created.

his eyes lock on your bound hands, and the red mark around your wrists. he unties your hands, and you let out a garbled noise of relief. you watch as he presses kisses to your wrists, while still pumping his thick dick through your walls. you’re on the edge again, and suguru flicks at your clit, making you cum another time, your body twitching and your hands grabbing at his skin.

suguru’s close, too, and he knows what he has to do now.

suguru’s ideas are dangerous, but he finds it in him that he doesn’t care. he can’t trust your word that you’ll never leave. he can’t rely on just marking you. he’ll have to make sure that you’re unable to go anywhere, he’ll have to make sure that you need him.

he’ll have to knock you up.

it’s as simple as that. the simple idea of you swelled with his child has him reeling. suguru knows it’ll work. you don’t use birth control, because you don’t like the way it makes you gain weight, and you often forget to take the pill. and, he saw condoms and plan b’s at your house. it’s almost comical. suguru’s sure that you’d take his baby; but not your boyfriend’s.

the idea excites him even more and he grips your thighs, using his weight to push you into a mating press.

everything’s a blurry mess from there.

he’s slamming his hips into you with a regained fever, over and over and over. your heightened sensitivity is unable to take it, and you’re a squealing, whining mess with every move that he makes. your grasping at anything in your reach, mainly him and the bedsheets.

suguru folds you in half as he feels his own orgasm coming. “you’re gonna take every drop i give you, understand? don’t waste my cum, slut.” you want to tell him to wait, to cum on your stomach. but you don’t. you can barely think at all. instead, you lose control of your body as you cum right with him, as he shoots his load of thick cum straight to your womb.

you think he’s done, but no; instead he flips you over onto your hands and knees. he grips your throat from behind with both hands as he slams into you one more time. pumping and filling you, breeding you like some animal. you can barely moan anymore, animalistic whimpers and grunts escaping you instead as he slams his hips against the plush of your ass. suguru lets go of your neck to grip your hair, pushing your face into his pillows as you drool mindlessly, brain fucked away.

“helloooo…” he asks, teasing you purposely, “anyone in there?” when you don’t answer, he barks out a laugh. “look at you. gone stupid on my dick. i expected you to last longer. but no; you’re nothin’ but a dick hungry cumslut.” your body twitches and you make out some noise, resembling a ‘nooo…’, but suguru can’t tell.

“like it when i use you like this, hm? like it when i treat you like my fuckin’ cocksleeve, don’t you, y/n?” this time you manage to answer with a sweet ‘yes!’ and suguru smiles. you’re cumming again, sinking into the blankets with rasped moans. your throat is probably shredded from all the screaming you’ve been doing, but it’s okay.

it’s not long before suguru’s shooting his third load into you — or is it his fourth? you don’t remember, and neither does he.

you think it’s over, and maybe it is for approximately five to ten minutes. he gives both of you a break, and he presses kisses into your spine.

however, when he maneuvers you into a different position, you almost pass out. suguru isn’t done with you yet. the night continues like that, until the rosy fingers of dusk trickle into the room. he fucks you all fucking night, with a few breaks. he fucks you to sleep, and when you wake up, he’s still fucking you. a mix of your fluids soaks his bed, as he fucks load after load after load into you.

because suguru’s on a mission.

so when morning comes and he’s finally done using and abusing your body, he knows he’s succeeded. he scoops his cum off your thighs and stuffs it back into you, and right after he slides your panties back on, making sure it stays there.

soon after, when you wake again, he carries you to the bathroom, and he washes you up, still making sure that not too much of his cum slides out. he’s gentle with you, carrying you on his back around the house, driving you to get dunkin’ donuts for breakfast. the two of you completely ignore your phones, and the messages your boyfriend — well, ex-boyfriend left you two.

in fact, suguru does him one better. he arrives at the house with his arm around your waist and you nestled into his side. your ex-boyfriend is more than livid, more than furious, but he pales in comparison to suguru.

he screams at you, only once; because suguru is there to utter out a, “you yell at my girlfriend like that again, and i will fucking kill you.” and both you and your boyfriend are shocked. but suguru only nods to you, smiling gently as you hurry to collect everything you need. feminine products, clothes, jewelry. important things. anything you miss, suguru says you’ll get later. your boyfriend doesn’t utter a word after that single scream.

of course he texts you, ranging from angry to filled with despair. from “cheating fucking bitch” to “i’m sorry, i’ll do better, just please come home”. he’s soon blocked.

and when you miss your period the next month, you’re telling suguru. when the pregnancy test comes up positive and you’re looking up at him with a mix of shock, fear and excitement, he scoops you up into a kiss, murmuring about how he’s so happy.

because now you’re his forever.

[theoldsports]

Moody.

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.3k words

depression, arguing, manipulation/toxic marriage, fucking each other over, possessiveness. it’s tamer than some of my others in an objective sense, but emphasizes dark thoughts and internal monologue.

requests always open! thanks for your kindnesses. i think this one is more experimental than the others. the objective here was to show how both of them mimic regular human feelings because they know they should, but it’s a poor pantomime. two sickos with nothing else but each other <3 i think i am going to call these works the Truculent series.

Coriolanus grew cold fast and did not tolerate heat well. He only slept only in his underclothes and wore heavy layers at the first sight of winter. His alarmingly fair complexion meant excessive sun wasn’t in the cards. In spite of his name, his scrappy build wasn’t meant to cut through harsh January terrain either. His nails chipped at labor, and his mind grew uneasy at laziness.

The world was tough on Coriolanus and he was tough right back on the word.

There was little Coriolanus was designed to do. Many people were strong, or smart, or wealthy, or drop-dead-gorgeous, or violent, or talented. There was something about every person Coriolanus could think of that made them stand out. He could easily categorized people by them. Here was the group of people known for their beautiful voices; here, those who could benchpress four-hundred pounds… Coriolanus could not be quantified like that.

Coriolanus Snow had to take what was left, like a runt. He was only good at two things: enduring and controlling. Since those were the only options leftover for him, Coriolanus became the best at them both. When, like Coriolanus, one has been gifted such shitty talents and nothing else, they have to figure out how to use them well enough to win against everyone with a better gift. Eventually, he realized his talents were not the ability to endure and the ability to control, but actually the ability to win. Eventually, he won so much, Coriolanus forgot there was ever a time when he lost (most days).

(The days he didn’t forget were the Bad Days).

Coriolanus felt like he couldn’t get out of bed on the Bad Days when the crushing weight of his failures and his ego landed across his chest. He told himself he was done with love after Lucy Gray. Disgusting Lucy Gray, a name he never wanted to even think again. He thought he would marry someone he hated and be done with love.

But junkies and addicts quit every Monday anyway.

Once he found [Y/N] again after their childhood together, there was no quitting. He knew it was bad for him, so he married what was bad for him to make sure he had an endless supply. How he hated that familiar feeling of obsession, the feeling of being so desperate that he had to rely on something other than himself. Somehow, he would have to sustain the feeling without losing his girl like an idiot. Marriage was likely the thing to steel their attempt at a bond.

Upon waking up to the alarm that morning, Coriolanus knew this was one of those Bad Days. Maybe it was the weather, the stress of Games. First year as head Gamemaker had almost driven Coriolanus mad under the pressure to succeed. He reached over to turn off the clock that buzzed painfully at six in the morning every day ending with a Y.

“Coryo…” [Y/N] mumbled, hearing him stir beside her. The sound must have woken her. She tossed an arm over his chest.

“‘Mornin’, Darling,” Coriolanus replied, wishing he were dead.

[Y/N] immediately picked up on the flatness of his tone, but she knew better than to push him too far. “All good?” She asked.

Coriolanus grumbled passively. He rarely did anything passively. Coriolanus grabbed the hand over his chest and dragged it up to the side of his face to rest it there, but only after he had kissed [Y/N] palm.

“You’re affectionate this morning.”

“I just missed you. I’ve been busy.” He said dismissively, pressing his face further into her hand.

“Well, thanks, dear, but don’t you have work?” [Y/N] asked. She propped her chin up on his shoulder to stare at him inquisitively. This attitude was odd. First thing in the morning during Games seasons, she got a kiss on the forehead and then Coriolanus was gone for a run and a shower and out til nightfall, barring special occasions.

“Don’t you?”

“Not til early evening today. Normally, you’re up and out of here first thing on a Tuesday morning,” [Y/N] told him, as she rubbed from his cheek to the side of his throat gently. She dragged her hand up his face to rest on his worried forehead. “You sick, or something?”

“No.” Coriolanus replied weakly. He closed his eyes again. He couldn’t face the legendary blunder he had made at work. Coriolanus had allowed his aides to code the program for the arena wrong. The open water was nowhere near as deep as was needed for the aquatic muttations. It was causing all sorts of trouble. The Games would end too fast if he didn’t do something, yet the stress of thinking of reaching across the nightstand for his Communicuff was paralyzing.

“You sure? You don’t feel feverish,” She confirmed. [Y/N] sat up to press her lips to his forehead just in case her cold hands had misread his temperature. “I can call the doctor, though.”

“[Y/N], stop. I’m fine.” Coriolanus lied harshly. He tried to sit up, but his psychological anguish made him feel like vomiting.

“Call in. Stay here.” She suggested, watching his weak movement to sit up.

“I’m head Gamemaker, I don’t get to call in. I need to go for a run’n I’ll be fine.”

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow. “So you aren’t currently fine? Because you said—“

“I know what the fuck I said, okay?” Coriolanus barked. “Wanna recap anything else, or can I go?”

Sharply, [Y/N] scooted away from him to the other side of the bed. His moods were hardly predictable. She sighed. “Fine,” She said, averting her eyes to her hands like a scolded girl. “I was merely concerned that you—“

Coriolanus scoffed at her and shakily stood up from the bed. He quickly stepped into the closet and stepped joggers and a wifebeater. [Y/N] hoped he would grab a jacket as well; the weather was much too cold for mid summer. The Capitol itself got disproportionately cold often. She didn’t say anything out loud, though. “Get off my ass. Can’t you sit there and be grateful for once? With all that I do for you?Fucking hell.” Coriolanus said. He did not so much as look back at her as he stormed out of the bedroom.

[Y/N] could not understand what she had done wrong. The only things she had were provided through Coriolanus or simply the man himself. Once Coriolanus was presumed out of earshot, [Y/N] dropped her head into her hands and cried. Not tears of frustration or anger, but tears of self-pity that her one lifeline had yelled at her like that.

—

By the time Coriolanus returned from his run, it appeared his wife had gone out for the day. Strange since she usually capitalized on the extra sleep if she was not working downtown with Capitol News until evening shift. Since their reckless young adulthood of media stunts, Coriolanus had watched [Y/N] grow a stifling love for spectacle. With his support and their shared deranged name recognition, she had quickly risen from an editor, to a correspondent (brief. He had helped her but her way up and out of that position) to Associate Head of Programming for Capitol News. It helped to have his wife steer both their media narratives from the inside.

Except for when she was mad at him.

Coriolanus wiped the sweat off his brow in the shower as he thought. There was no doubt in his mind that [Y/N] was going to run some sort of primetime bulletin that made him look a fool during his Games coverage that night. It was bad enough that Lucky Flickerman was beginning to look like botox had gotten better of him, in addition to Coriolanus’ own fuck up with the muttations. Fact of the matter was that viewership was down and [Y/N] was going to make it worse. She was going to make his Bad Day worse and he knew it.

He could feel his heart rate racing as he stood under the shower’s cold stream. His equally cold blue eyes glanced across the bathroom at the clock. Six-fifty AM. Realistically, he need to be into the Gameroom by no later than eight-thirty, but it frustrated him to be in later than eight. In roughly an hour, how could he perform the maximum amount of damage control? Coriolanus’ head began to ache at the thought.

She had never run that harsh of a piece on him before, but it was a Bad Day, and no doubt she was angry with him for his attitude. [Y/N] was capable of a great many horrible things. Wouldn’t Coriolanus himself want to sting somebody back who he had known was pissy with him?

When he exited the shower, Coriolanus rushed to dress himself. [Y/N] said she wasn’t working until late. But where, then, had she gone? With all the thinking about his own feelings, he hadn’t considered that conundrum.

—

Coriolanus called her secretary, a boring woman with a name neither man nor wife could recall. According to that woman, [Y/N] had not gone early to work. He rang Tigris. Tigris said [Y/N] had not been over unless she was lying which Coriolanus wouldn’t put past her. The Plinths swear they had not encountered her.

Coriolanus stared down at his datapad of phone numbers. He refrained from calling all of their friends because he didn’t want to to exude the panic he was starting to feel for letting his wife run away. None of her belongings seemed out of place. Her suitcase was present in the back of their closet. Still, Coriolanus was terrified in the back of his mind that his wife had finally left him. A year and half was a dreadful lifespan for a marriage in his opinion. [Y/N] was not getting away that easily.

However, his watch told him it was eight and the Games weren’t going to run themselves.

Throughout the day, Coriolanus could not get his heart rate to settle. It made him feel ill. So ill, in fact, that he couldn’t keep down most of breakfast, or all of lunch. He skipped dinner all together. Who was [Y/N] to up and leave him like that?

The slight rational segment of his brain told him to walk it back, but the rest of his brain paid no mind. Coriolanus had nothing going for him other than gut instincts and his gut instincts now were implying something was fundamentally wrong.

Coriolanus’ decision-making was way off of its game at work. Coriolanus, for ratings, could not allow the Hunger Games to end on a Tuesday night. Somehow, he would have to create obstacles to last the four remaining tributes til Friday. He didn’t much like those odds. He was going to cave and hand in his resignation before the end of the day, he was certain.

Though, at eight in the evening, the primetime announcement or chiron that Coriolanus was a shitty husband or a murderer never cut through his broadcast to make his Day irreparably Bad. Nor did it at eight-thirty, or even nine. Coriolanus felt shaky. Maybe with relief for his reputation, maybe because he had nothing in his system.

If nothing had aired at Coriolanus’ expense on TV, had something happened to [Y/N] while he was on his run, or later? Was this some rebel attempt to bring the head Gamemaker to his knees? An attempt from a bitter rival to play games with him? Coriolanus frowned. Many things could have happened to his wife between six in the morning and nine at night. Coriolanus could barely stand up as it was. He clocked out and summoned his driver as quick as he could.

The second Coriolanus’ key entered the lock, he started shouting with the energy he had left. The door had yet to even close behind him. “[Y/N]! [Y/N], my love! Are you here?” Coriolanus pushed open every cabinet and closet on his way to the bedroom. Empty. He checked the closet - her suitcase remained. Coriolanus had called her office on his way home. She had not shown up for work. Unheard of.

Coriolanus ran through every room of the townhouse shouting [Y/N]’s name over and over until he felt hoarse. He could only imagine what the neighbors thought. Then he saw the attic door open.

The door remained open, but the stairs to the attic had snapped back up halfway and gotten jammed. “Coryo!” He heard [Y/N] yell faintly from upstairs.

“Darling, are you… in the attic?” Coriolanus shouted back cautiously under the open door. He watched as [Y/N]’s tearstained face peered around the edges of the attic door. It was really her. Not a Jabberjay, not a setup. Coriolanus exhaled for what felt like the first time all day. “Let me come up. I’ll come to you. Hold on!” Coriolanus’ finally left behind the Bad Day as he leapt into action. Protecting his wife was his job before Gamemaker, or any other obligation. Anyone in the Capitol would remember their vows, or her smashing cake into his face much to his dismay. Marriage was socially his most binding contract of all. Coriolanus did not take contractional obligations lightly.

Coriolanus had not realized that his wife was so delicate and helpless as to get stuck in the attic. She needed him more than he thought. His heart swelled with pride. Coriolanus grabbed a broomstick and hooked the hinge in the stairs. He yanked with all his strength until the ladder descended. Quickly, he dropped a large sack of rice from the kitchen counter over the bottom step in hopes it would weight the stairs down and he took off up them.

“[Y/N], are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, popping his head through the attic door

There on the unfinished attic floor sat [Y/N], bundled up in her thin teddy she had been wearing when Coriolanus left. She had only that and a too-short blanket Tigris had crocheted as a child. There was very little in the attic at all. Some of the Grandma’am’s belongings in clear glass bins and whatever surviving relics had carried on from their post-war childhoods.

It was clear [Y/N] had been crying. “I thought you would come back.” She sniffled.

Coriolanus urgently climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and sat carefully down beside [Y/N], wrapping her in his long arms possessively. “I thought something happened to you,” Also, that you tried to leave me. “You’re freezing… How long have you been up here?”

“Since you went on your run.”

“Shit… All that time?”

[Y/N] thought her tears had long since stopped, but seeing Coriolanus appear upset about ignoring her all day made her want his attention more. She wanted him to feel bad.

The tears started flowing the second his arms were looped around her waist. [Y/N] rested her head on Coriolanus’s shoulder heavily. “Coryo, you just left. I come up here all the time to think and I didn’t think it would—“

The blonde man’s heart softened at the sight of her. “Darling, Darling, shh, don’t cry,” Coriolanus combed his hand through sobbing [Y/N]’s hair. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”

Coriolanus felt like he was able to play the role of comforter and protector nobly tonight in a way he had recently felt inadequate at. With ease, he draped her legs across his lap and adjusted her arms around his neck so that her body was completely supported by his. She clung to him like a desperate child. The skin-to-skin contact was most appreciated by Coriolanus after the Day he’d had. Coriolanus excitedly drew a breathe from her neck, taking in her scent.

[Y/N] sobbed dramatically into Coriolanus’ dress shirt, but he pretended not to care like a good husband. “I’m sorry. I c-couldn’t—couldn’t get down. I th-thought you would come get me. I shout-ted for you,” she played up her tears. [Y/N] played up everything for attention; they both knew that. But the situation was mutually beneficial for people that liked attention so damn much. “You didn’t hear me.” You never hear me.

“Oh, Princess…” Coriolanus rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hoping it would warm her up. He pulled away from her regrettably and stripped off his blazer. He wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled it carefully in front of her. He knew [Y/N] would like the gesture. Now, Coriolanus did not say I’m sorry. It was not his fault that [Y/N] had fled to the attic. He did instead try to make good from now forward. “I was so worried, I started to think something happened to you. I wanted to give you space, but then I didn’t hear from you all day. I’m relieved to know the only monster that got you was the attic,” Coriolanus leaned into her neck to kiss her in his favorite place. “You sat up here in all this junk and dust today; how are you still so stunning?”

[Y/N] laughed through a wet sniffle as Coriolanus searingly kissed her neck. “I didn’t know I’d worried you this much.” She muttered.

“I didn’t know I’d upset you this much,” Coriolanus agreed. That was as close to I’m sorry as she was going to get. “What did you do up here all day?”

“W-Went through some boxes. Found your old uniform.” [Y/N] smiled back.

“My Peacekeeper uniform?” Coriolanus asked in surprise. He hoped that she had not found anything else, if there was anything more scathing up in the attic.

“Mhm,” she affirmed. [Y/N] stood shakily from the floor, snot dripping from her nose. Snot, which she knew better than to wipe on the sleeve of his blazer. She followed where the beams were in the floor nimbly so she didn’t put her foot through the ceiling below her. [Y/N] collected a decently sized metal crate with a handle on it. PRIVATE SNOW, CORIOLANUS B. was stamped on top of the dusty, dented metal. She carried it back to Coriolanus and sat down with it in front of him.

“I didn’t go through everything in here, that felt intrusive, but I did pull this out,” they both knew that was a lie and that she had absolutely gone through every item, but Coriolanus let her keep going without cutting in. [Y/N] decided she would still let him explain the history behind every item he wanted to share anyway.

When she shook the long gray-blue jacket out of the box, something happened that hadn’t happened last time she took the jacket out. “Coriolanus, what’s this?” [Y/N] asked, plucking a bulky chain off the floor that had tumbled from the coat’s breast pocket.

“Ah, I’d forgotten where those went. Dog tags from my time in Twelve.” Coriolanus said.

“I still have my father’s. You were like a real soldier then, huh?”

“Peacekeeper.” Coriolanus corrected.

“Yes, Peacekeeper.” [Y/N] agreed quietly.

[Y/N] held the two identical pendants in her hands.

SNOW, CORIOLANUS

CITADEL, CAPITOL

4147769218S 12

O NEG

CREMATE

His entire identity all on two pieces of nickel. While she squinted at the embossed metal, Coriolanus leaned forward across the box that had once held his entire world and grabbed the chain she was holding as well as her hands. [Y/N]’s red weepy eyes met his crystal clear blue ones. “Would you like them?”

“You don’t want to keep them?”

“Certainly not. My name right there on your chest? That’s preferable to them sitting in a dusty box forever. People will know who you belong to if you wander off like this again. ‘Know you’re not, hm, like… up for finders-keepers.” Coriolanus shifted them out of [Y/N]’s hands and dropped the chain around her neck as if it were the finest gold necklace he had ever purchased her.

Coriolanus put that box up in the attic because he had not wanted to think about it ever again. Above all, though, Coriolanus Snow was an opportunistic man and he put those dog tags on [Y/N] just like he had Lucy Gray because he knew this move was flattering. If it worked once, it would work again. Sickeningly, he pulled out the same words he had used before too: “There. All mine.”

“All yours.” [Y/N] replied.

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst

as usual, apologies if your tag didn’t work. tumblr’s tough like that. also so sorry if i forgot anyone! remind me if i did!

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)

Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift

Part 1

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.

Word Count: 10,085

The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.

Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?

Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.

I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.

Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused. 

In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.

Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.

The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.

In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.

As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.

Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."

Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."

As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.

"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.

She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.

Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."

I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."

As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.

"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."

Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.

In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.

One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.

“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”

The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."

Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.

As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.

Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.

The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.

I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.

With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.

"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.

I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.

His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.

I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.

"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.

The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.

Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.

The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.

The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.

"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.

Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.

The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.

"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.

Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.

The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.

"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.

Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.

The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.

“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.

"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"

"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.

"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.

I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.

Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.

The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.

I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.

My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.

"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.

I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.

Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.

Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.

Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.

"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.

The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.

My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.

As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.

I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.

A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.

Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?

My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.

But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?

I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.

With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.

A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.

I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.

The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.

Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.

The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.

One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.

Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.

My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.

The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.

As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.

The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.

I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.

As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities. 

Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.

The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.

A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.

And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.

One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.

My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.

Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.

A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?

The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.

As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.

"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."

A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.

"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.

He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.

Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."

A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"

I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."

Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"

My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."

His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.

"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.

Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."

He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.

Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."

I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."

Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."

My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.

A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.

I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.

I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.

Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.

My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?

As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.

It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.

But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.

I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.

As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."

The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."

Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."

The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.

"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.

But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."

The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.

"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.

The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."

As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.

And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served. 

Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."

"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.

As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side. 

"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.

As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.

"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.

“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.

"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"

I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."

"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"

"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."

"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."

"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.

Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."

"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me. 

"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."

We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.

As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.

"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."

I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.

"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.

"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.

Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.

After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.

As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream. 

My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."

Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.

"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."

The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?

"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.

Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.

"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.

And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”

We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.

Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.

"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.

"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."

My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.

"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.

The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing. 

"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."

As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.

He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."

His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.

"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."

With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.

Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.

The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.

My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.

I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.

As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.

His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.

"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.

I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me. 

His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.

He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.

The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.

"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!

"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."

He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."

I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.

It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.

I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.

The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.

"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."

"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."

He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.

We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Wow," I finally managed to say.

We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.

Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.

He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.

I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.

A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is." 

As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.

[bakugoushotwife]

OMG GIRL

i just got a brilliant idea,

ok so roommate gojo finds reader in only a shirt (his shirt btw ;)) and underwear

and then things just get absolutely dirty

i hope you like this idea just as much as i do!!!

thanks so much 🫶🏻

a/n: god i wanna kiss u on the mouth for these sometimes. this has been in the forefront of my mind for days!!! it went a little off the rails babe ngl

cw: pervy gojo, yandere-esque gojo, he's obssessed and delulu. unprotected sex, facefucking, fingering and oral (fem receiving), mating press, breeding, daddy, pet names, mean-ish roommate gojo, size kink, panty stealing, uh lemme know if i missed anything. will go back and edit!

wc: 4.5k

Lucky Day (Satoru Gojo x fem!reader)

This apartment was so shitty, and your landlord was even worse. Your roommate was at work, so there really was no other option. The pipes on the washer bursted, spraying the outfit you had on and making sure you couldn’t wash anymore. It was a miracle that you managed to turn the water to the washing machine off, you felt like a goddamn plumber from that alone. You even accomplished ordering a new pipe, only problem being it wouldn’t arrive for three more days. 

With a heavy sigh, you peel off your soaked crop top and sling it in your hamper, sliding off your shorts and underwear as well, truly unlucky. The only mercy shining upon you at this point was being home alone as you sprint to your room naked. You can only imagine the endless teasing that you would receive if Satoru was here. 

You grumble about your misfortune under your breath, pilfering through your drawers to find a new outfit to put on. Of course, you would be so unlucky yet again. You look up to the gods with narrowed eyes, as if this was personal. Really, it’s your own fault, damn the procrastination tendency you struggled with. You just had random pairs of socks and a Christmas themed onesie. You were honestly grateful to locate a red lace thong that was venturing closer to the shoelace side of size. You tug the poor excuse for underwear up your thighs, letting them slap against your hips in frustration. You had to put something on, your roommate was a huge tease, the gorgeous motherfucker. It was highly annoying, though you imagine if you were so unnervingly beautiful you may act the same way. In any event, walking around topless was not an option. You can practically hear the sarcastic whip of his voice dripping off his tongue right now. 

“Oh-ho-ho, did I come home or did I walk into a titty bar?” 

“And you swear you don’t want me, sweetheart?” 

“Aw, how did you know I had a bad day?” 

Each line makes you shiver. He was impossible to deal with, but he kept the rent low. As much as you hate to admit it he was nice to look at too, though you were hell bent on keeping that to yourself. He knew it anyway, there was no need to inflate his already massive ego. Why would you tell him? It would just be embarrassing, especially with his naturally outgoing nature. He would rip you apart if you admitted how you may actually feel about your snarky counterpart. You were nothing special to look at anyway, it would be silly to get your hopes up. Maybe he was annoying, but parts of you enjoyed him pestering you all hours of the day and scaring any potential suitors away. 

You would definitely never hear the end of it if you didn’t cover up soon, the clock ticking closer and closer to his typical arrival time. You groan. The only solution was putting on something of his. This route would still produce plenty of jabs, but at least you could potentially explain what had happened. You dart across the hall to his room, yanking open his drawers. You’ve been in his room several times, but it’s always slightly surprising each time. He’s cleaner than you’d think, and the room is decorated very minimally. You rummage through his dresser, finally locating a black tee. You’ve seen this one on him before, and it fits him like a second layer of skin, but you’re around a foot shorter, so it should serve to cover your chest comfortably. You tug it over your head, humming in satisfaction. It falls just above your knees, more dress than shirt. You sigh once more at the outfit pairing, but you return to your room all the same. You decide to curl up with a book until your nuisance comes home, after texting to see if Shoko would let you come over to wash some clothes. 

“Honeyyyy I’m homeeeee.” Satoru sings, keys jingling as he comes through the door of the humble abode. He scrunches his nose, smelling the metallic tinge to the air, so he goes to check out the laundry room. It’s a mess of towels attempting to soak up the flood of water, every piece of fabric in the vicinity was soaked. He clicks his tongue. Luckily the water had been turned off, but Gojo wondered to himself if a maintenance man came in to rescue you, knowing you can hardly turn on the gas stove yourself. He can’t help but be a little jealous, no—overprotective. You were such a delicious little thing, and he can’t stand to see you get ogled by men less than deserving. You won’t give him the time of day, though he’s most certainly the only man deserving of ogling you. He hums at the scene, deciding he should go and ask what happened, that way he could figure out if that pervy handyman needed his eyes gouged out. 

He marches to your room and pushes the door open. “So–the pipe on the wa—” 

He froze. He’s greeted with the sight of you stretched out on top of your comforter, one long leg folded delicately over the other, until his t-shirt covered the rest of you from the knee up. It dwarfed you, made him painfully aware how much smaller you were. So tiny compared to someone so tall and strong as him. Yet you swear he’s the tease. He bites his lip, shamelessly pulling his dark lenses down his nose, crystal clear eyes peeking over the frames to memorize everything about you. You sat with your back straight against the headboard, small hands clutching a thick book.

 “Am I dreaming, or are you laying there in my shirt and nothing else?” He grinned, propping an arm up on the doorway. He doesn’t miss the way you squirm under his lazer focus. 

You feel your body heat up. You even had prep time, yet you still didn’t know exactly what to say. You swallow thickly. “I have panties on. I had nothing to put on! The pipe burst on the washer and soaked me–”

“Oh I’ll get you soaked babe–”

“Satoru!” You yelp, slamming your book closed with a loud clap. He just snorts at your embarrassment, half-lidded eyes still scanning over you to make his desire known. You can’t count the amount of times that your roomie has openly flirted with you, but it shocked you each time. 

“Y/N!” He mocked, rolling his eyes. He pushes himself off the frame and gets to the edge of your bed within a few strides. He plops down uninvited, staring at you almost as if he’s challenging you. He rests his hand on your calf, and you just stare at the point of contact with a raised brow. The man is awfully comfortable putting his hands on you, though that’s because you’ve been his since the day you moved in, in his mind. All this banter is just him being sweet and romantic. He sighs. “Let’s get real, hm? You look irresistible in my clothes, my mouth is watering over here, princess. I want ya. So stop acting like you don’t want me.” 

You watch as his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, his foot anxiously tapping on the ground. He’s holding back demons here, and he doesn't know how much longer he can keep himself together. It felt like the room got twenty degrees warmer, electricity brewing like you were sitting in the center of a thunderstorm. You suck in a breath of surprise, the angel and devil on your shoulder going back and forth. He was impossibly annoying, clingy and obsessive. He was like a guard dog, but if it was a guard giraffe instead with his lanky limbs and otherwise goofy nature. On the other hand, he was impossibly sexy, and you would be a dirty liar if you continued to pretend you didn’t want him to rearrange your guts in his t-shirt. 

But what’s the harm in being a tease?

“What if I don’t?” You smirk, to which he mirrors your expression. If you want to play, he can do that too. He’ll make you regret it though. That flash of adoration in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

“Give me a chance anyway. You’ll never fuck anyone else after this, I promise.” He says, not waiting for another catty reply from your pouty lips. He’s lunging forward, large hands grabbing your face to keep you from escaping him. Another second passes and his lips smash on yours. He’s needy, messy, and not holding himself back in this clash of teeth and lips and tongue. You were shocked by his passion, not realizing just how serious Satoru was in his pursuit of you. He kisses you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted, swallowing up any chance you have at getting oxygen with his saliva coated lips. You fist the cover beneath you, clutching the cotton for dear life. 

He’s consuming your senses and you wouldn’t have it any other way; you feel stupid for denying yourself of this for nearly two years now. His touch is fiery, you can feel his fingerprints burn into your skin and the only cure is more of those large palms gliding over your shoulders and chest. You relax into him, moving your mouth fluidly against his smiling one; his taste is of some sort of candy..starbursts maybe, but just the pink ones. His tongue gives you that flavor as it melds with yours, dominating it easily. He’s breathing heavy and grunting, the sound almost sweeter than the candy on his breath. They’re high pitched and whiny, he’s been picturing this scenario for a while now. You find yourself laying back, tugging him by the shirt to hover over you. The fabric wafted his vanilla sandalwood fragrance, of course he would smell and taste so delicious. It’s so befitting of such a deviantly perfect man. He doesn't hesitate to cover your frame with his, boxing your hips in under his as he straddles them. He breaks the make-out session to sit back on his knees to peel off his shirt–a white one not unlike the black one you stole. He throws it over his shoulder and you both hear it faintly fall in the distance. Then you both sigh, you squirm beneath him, hips shamelessly rolling into his semi. The corners of his lips curled into a smile. 

You looked truly angelic, as always. Your lips were plump and swollen from the way he smothered them, your tits perked up and nipples poking through the fabric of his tee. Your hair was just starting to get messy, and he had half a mind to fuck that bratty mouth of yours, holding out on him this long just to look up at him with those needy doe eyes. Now he’s really smirking, and it goes from an idea, to something he just has to see. He gets off of you, sliding out of his shoes, peeling off those annoying socks and his tight black jeans. He hisses when his throbbing erection isn’t so choked back, palming himself over his underwear. He goes to slide those off too when he catches you sitting up to remove his shirt. 

“No. Leave that on.” He growled, yanking his underwear off and throwing it with the rest of the discarded clothes. You hummed in response, the husk of his voice sending a jolt to your pussy. You knew you were growing damp, and the tiny lace wouldn’t do much to stop that from being painfully obvious. You sigh softly at the sight of him, though it almost pisses you off. Yes, of course, even his cock is utterly perfect. Somewhere in the eight inches ballpark, purple veins along his curved shaft led to a pretty pink tip glossy with his arousal. He thumbs the slit and spreads it further, beautiful blue eyes fluttering shut to enjoy the brief strokes. You whine, not sure what he wants you to do. 

Satoru has planned this day for so long, he’ll make sure you comply with his every request to fulfill this fantasy. He stands at the foot of your bed, huge hands wrapping around your ankles so he can drag you to lay completely flat on the mattress. There’s that devious smirk you know, your eyes widen slightly in wonder. He was planning something. 

“I can use that loud ass mouth, right?” He hums, getting back to his knees on the bed. But this time, instead of straddling your hips, he positions his knees on either side of your shoulders. You gulp, his full length looming large over your face. You look past his dick to his oceanic stare. 

“Yeah, yeah. Do your worst.” You manage to squeak, trying to reserve some of your pride. His eyes burn with amusement. He reaches his hand forward, putting a thumb on your chin to tilt your mouth downwards. He grins, angling your throat. 

“You shouldn’t have said that.” He clicked his tongue, swiping at your bottom lip. “Goddamn, I’m gonna ruin you.” He says, affectionately smoothing down your hair while tapping your mouth with his tip. “Open up.”

You part your lips wider, relaxing your jaw; you even stick your tongue out to provide him the perfect mental image to remember. He slides his cock into your silky throat, hot mouth swallowing him all up so good he’s fighting that ball of tension in his stomach just from the sight. He knows he’ll last, even if cums down your throat he’ll make sure he pumps you full of another round. You clearly needed to know who you belonged to. He leans his weight forward, his tip colliding with your gag reflex. You choke around him, but he doesn’t let up. His hand catches him on the headboard, and now he has the perfect angle to hammer into your wet mouth without mercy. He keeps his icy gaze angled down, he can’t miss a second of your tears pooling and sliding down your reddened cheeks. You’re so beautiful, he can’t believe you made him wait two years to claim you like this. That’s fine, he understands that his powerful presence can be a bit much. He is the Honored One after all. He was content to wait for you until you could honor him. 

He’s huge in your throat. You can feel your walls spasm around his cock, gagging and sputtering on him as he relentlessly slams into you. Your nose collides with his snowy pubes every time, saliva slicking down everything. Your cunt burns for attention, he’s driving you crazy with the way he’s looking at you, long white lashes framing the darkest lust-fueled stare you’ve ever seen. He’s using you so perfectly, you don’t mind being sore and unable to speak if it means you get to drink his load. Your hand sneaks over your thighs, sliding your thong over. You’re so drenched that the cold air makes you whimper around his gag, but you let your longest digit glide to your soaking hole. Gathering some of your slick, you slide back up to your aching bundle of nerves, easing circles over yourself. You sigh with relief, and Satoru turns to see why, grunting with dissatisfaction. His hips still, and he reaches to slap your hand away and give a punishing slap to your cunt. You jerk up in surprise, though the pressure was sickeningly sweet. 

“None of that shit. You oughta wait longer, made me wait two whole years to make you mine.” He growls, bringing his hands back to hold your face. He rocks his hips into your face again, moaning softly at how well you’ve acclimated to his rod. Your gags are so erotic, giving you and him both goosebumps. He chuckles, feeling his stomach and cock twitch. 

“Swallow it all or I’m not touching you.” He warns, spurting his seed down your throat. It’s a heavy load, spilling into your cheeks as he drags his cock out. You cover your mouth to keep any of his cum from leaking out, swallowing the hot liquid instantly. His hold on your cheeks makes it easy for him to push your mouth open, making sure you swallow every bit. He taps his tip against your lips in satisfaction, sliding back down your body to straddle your thighs this time. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl. You want me to eat your pussy?” He asks, sharp white teeth nipping at the delicate skin of your neck. 

You nod, still gasping for breath. Your blood was thumping in your ears as well as your pussy, and all you could think about was his strong tongue against yours earlier. 

“Beg me for it.” He smiles, breaking some skin below your collarbone and lapping his tongue over it. “Kept me waitin’ angelface. I think it’s the least you can do for me.” He coos, pushing his tee up all the way up your perfect thighs and over your tits. He nibbles his lower lip at the sight of your exposed body, not that it was the first time he’s seen you. Fresh out of the shower, scouring for clothes with no idea he’s watching or when your pajamas are so skanky you might as well wear nothing at all. This was special though, this was you wanting him, this was you begging for him to make you cum. 

You whine, squirming under him. He eyes the slutty panties, shaking his head. “And I thought I hid all of these…” He sighs, working the drenched fabric off. He sniffs them and whimpers, they smell just as heavenly as all the others. Your pussy glistens with your floods of slick, he can’t help but lick his lips, palming his semi into a full erection again. You hardly thought he was serious with all of his flirts. He definitely seemed like the type to just enjoy flustering someone. Plus, you didn’t quite understand what he saw in you–surely he could be with super models. But he made you cancel any date you had for the past two years and actively barked at anyone who looked at you twice, and now stealing your panties for his use… surely that was a lot of commitment if he was just teasing you right? Fucking your mouth like it was his god given right, wanting you to beg for him, he really did want you carnally. 

“Satoru,” You sigh out breathlessly, the man just out of arm’s reach. You bat your lashes and stare up at him. “Oh god, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you really wan’ed me! I didn’t mean to make you wait, baby, please–just please make me yours. I can’t take it ‘nymore, Sato..” You pant. He swears he’s vibrating, the pout in your voice just too much to handle. He needs you just as bad, but he has to make you cum for him before he ruins your cunt. He bites your thigh, determined to leave a bruise there, too. He’ll mark you up now that you’re his, no one could ever doubt or deny who you belong to. He only knows passion and all or nothing, his love is smothering and obsessive, and you’ll know everything about that. He groans, smelling your dripping juices was the final straw. His lips latch onto your painful need and you gasp out at the feeling. Your thigh burned where he had indented his teeth into it, but the pain only served to fog your brain up and soak your cunt just that much more

“Shoulda known I was serious.” He complains in between languid laps to your middle, drinking up the nectar. “I forgive you. ‘S gonna be okay now, I got us now.” He sighs dreamily, beginning a feisty assault on your core. He nibbles at your clit, sucking on it harshly and then following it with sweet and soothing licks. He can’t help but dip his svelte fingers in your tight hole, growling as you clamp around him. He knows you’re gonna be so fucking tight, and now he’s rutting his hips into your bed to stave off his desire until he pleases you to his liking. He coos as your arousal coats his plump pink lips, shaking his head as he devours you. His fingers pump and curl in all the right places. You’re sputtering and gasping, eyes clenched shut so hard colored orbs prick at your vision. You’re about to explode, every orgasm you’ve ever brought yourself or experienced before paling in comparison to the one you’re about to succumb to now. 

Your legs shake, clenching around his head. His strong hands force your legs back down, squeezing gently on your thighs. He kneads the flesh, admiring how easily you surrendered to him. “You bout to cum, sweet girl?” He teases, working into your spongy spot with his lengthy fingers. 

You nod, worried that he’d make you beg for that too.You decided to get ahead of the curve, babbling immediately. “Yes, please Satoru! Wan’ cum for you s’bad–please!” 

He chuckles, “Of course darling. Cum for me, Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” He demands, watching your nose scrunch up and your body jerk involuntarily. He can feel the flood of your release against his fingers, and he grins. He can’t hold it back anymore, he has to have you right now. He doesn’t let you recover, folding your legs into a mating press to start, sliding his aching length through your slippery hole and into those choking walls. He groans, letting his head fall back. You were just as tight as he imagined–no, tighter! This was all for him, no one but him would ever touch you again. The way you grip him sends chills down his spine, and his obsessive craving for you turns into an insatiable need. You watch his adam's apple bob in his throat, eyeing the rest of his bare chest and abs that had their own abs. He growls, his hold on the underside animalist. “Oh my god, doll..” He groans, breathing through his nose in an effort to calm himself.

 “I’m gonna give it you so fucking good, little one. Gonna claim you in every way, give you my kids, don’t’cha want that?” He coos, hips snapping into your ass rapidly. He’s abusing your spot instantly, and he knows it. It’s partially because he knows he can’t last too long in this glorious cunt when he’s this worked up and partially because he wants to see you come undone before him, begging for him to fill you to the brim. He did say he’d claim you in every way, what could be more of his mark? His teeth prints bruising your sweet skin, or his child growing in your womb? He shivers at the idea. He never thought this way about people before you. Something about your perfect hair and your sweet smile made him horny in ways he never knew. He craves seeing you full of his cum, making you hold it and not letting you get any medicine to keep you from conceiving. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be, right? 

His cock fills you so right that you know you’d agree to anything right now. Your feet shake by your ears, you can’t take his repeated and unforgiving slams. You nod dumbly, craving his hot load in your pussy and more of his dirty fantasies. “Mhm, wan’ give you pretty babies, ‘Toru, jus’ give it all to me.” You plead, tits bouncing with his brutal fucks. 

His mouth drops open. “Agh, oh fuck..you really want me to knock you up baby? Lock me in as your baby daddy?” He questions breathily, dick jumping as you clench down. You really did like the idea it seems, as your wanton moans and soaking wave of cum clue him in to some fantasies of your own. 

You nod vigorously again. “Yes! Oh my god, yes, please, Daddy…I’ll make you one I swear!” His whines are so rewarding. The pleasure you send coursing through him causes his brows to furrow.

“You fucking got it angel. Make me a baby.” He nods, determined to follow through on your wish. His cheeks flush, his cum shooting all over your walls. It was hot and gushing, your hole clenches in an effort to hold onto it.  He’s wanted you all this time, there was no way you would escape him now. Now, you were all for him forever, and he hoped his seed took hold and grew within you. Couldn’t be so bratty if you were glowing with a child, his child. He had more than enough money, in his mind it's completely rational. He just wanted you to be reminded who you are now, who you belong to. The world needs to know it too, and he doesn’t mind to keep trying until it works. “Gonna look so pretty when you swell up for me.” He giggles, lazily blinking at you. He pushes your beautiful hair out of your face, gently holding your cheek. 

“I love you. That’s why I act this way. You’re all mine now, for good. I'll always take good care of you, my pretty mama.” He coos, his voice sweet as he leans up to kiss your parted lips, your body still coping with the waves of pleasure. Sure, all the dinners you’ve made for him and all the times you’ve folded his laundry was just you being nice, but you knew why you cared so much for your annoyingly handsome roommate. 

“I love you too. Here I was thinking this was the unluckiest day of my life.” You snort, running your hands through his white locks as he remains content to lay on top of you. He chuckles in return, but his mind is busy. He’s thinking about what theme for the nursery, names for your son or daughter, and how good you’d look needing him for everything for the next nine months. 

[ngayawneluoer]

you are everything

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neteyam x reader

requested! - when you tell neteyam you want him as your mate, his insecurities impede him since he thinks you can do better than him word count: 2,223

a/n: NETEYAM IS SO BABY GIRL ARGHFDHUEHFU it was very fun to write my favourite tropes: idiots in love and mutual pining. disclaimer: nete is aged up as is the reader. I think it's pretty obvious from the events described (+ I usually write my fics w them aged up in mind), but thought I should make it very clear considering how this fic ends LOL

You had been close with Neteyam for as long as you could remember. If your thoughts sauntered to your very first memory, Neteyam was there, a constant pillar in your life that you could depend on for anything. Neither of you remembered how you met, and if they were being honest, neither did your parents. But you were attached at the hip, and no argument or disagreement had ever been able to change that. He was your best friend; there was never a thing that you felt you couldn't share with each other. Except, of course, the seedling of infatuation you held for him, which remained unspoken for a long time.

But as you grew, the seedling bloomed until you knew nothing but your love for him. And when you were 15, under the night sky in an endless field of sun lilies, you shared your first kiss with him. You remembered how the luminous freckles lining his cheeks shone like the stars; you took such pleasure in being so close to him that you could count each one. Your breaths mingled, your fingers intertwined, your hearts soaring as you spoke of nothing and everything for hours. You couldn't recall another time when you had seen him smile so much; his eyes twinkled in the dim light of the flora around you, the beauty of his features breathtakingly accentuated. The two of you had spent the night in each other's arms, finding solace in the feelings you held for each other as you lay amongst the phosphorescent flowers.

Even so, come morning, the intimate night you shared was forgotten. You couldn't pinpoint why, but neither of you seemed to want to bring it up. It hurt you a lot; you could tell it hurt him too, but you both buried yourselves in responsibilities, renouncing your feelings and leaving them undeclared. He was still your best friend, now just with baggage that neither of you wanted to unpack.

When he underwent his rite of passage and was accepted into the clan as an adult, you were sure that your secret bond would dissipate. You had watched him from the crowd, your mind caught in a battle between pride and grief. He was now an adult, allowed to choose the one who would be his mate for the rest of his life, someone who may not be you.

He carried his warrior's bow, made from the wood of hometree, a symbol of his adulthood and his place in the clan. And yet, to this day, he lacked a mate by his side. Of course, you knew that it could take years for Na'vi to choose their mate, but he was Neteyam. In your eyes, he was better than anyone, and if anyone was to have more than enough options for fine mates, it would be him.

You would never bring it up to him, though; why would you want to unintentionally encourage him to seek someone that wasn't you? Or even worse, find out that he already had eyes for someone else. You recalled a human phrase Jake had used once, 'ignorance is bliss'; you felt as if you finally understood it.

So your relationship with Neteyam remained the same, up until where you were currently, after having undergone your own ceremony to become a part of the people. It had gone by in a blur, and before you knew it, you were fleeing from the village with Neteyam, your hands not once parting as you leapt through the Pandoran forest.

"Where are you taking me, skxawng?" Neteyam had asked, a smile on his face as you dragged him further and further away from the crowds of Na'vi dispersing after your ceremony.

"It's a surprise," You grinned, turning to look at him only momentarily to shoot him a devious look.

You had one goal in mind tonight; to revisit the valley of sun lilies you and Neteyam had stumbled upon all those years ago. You only hoped that the hunch you had was correct and that the aforementioned man only lacked a mate because he was waiting on a certain someone - a certain someone who had just completed their ceremony minutes prior.

Your feet followed the path to the sun lily valley like the back of your hand, despite it being only your second time upon the route. You had been so eager to return to the place you held so dearly in your heart, and today was a perfect time. Neteyam was awed at the sight as you arrived at the edge of the sea of flowers, their bioluminescent spots reflecting the night sky's visage like a mirror.

He beamed joyfully, stepping into the knee-high blossoms, urging you to follow him, "I can't believe you brought us here. It hasn't changed a bit."

"I know…" you whispered, hands gliding past the flowers you walked by, their crowned heads glowing as they dipped under your fingers.

"Your ceremony was a sight to behold," Neteyam stated after a beat of silence.

"The dream hunt was the scariest. I'm surprised I didn't freak out when the kali'weya stung me," You said, shuddering as you recalled the venomous bite of the arachnoid.

"I'm surprised you didn't get killed by taming an ikran," He teased, a smug look on his face.

"Mean!" You blurted and shoved him lightly, though your smile distracted from any malice.

Neteyam stumbled exaggeratedly, turning to you dramatically before falling backwards into the canopy of flowers. He groaned when he landed, the flowers not cushioning his fall as much as he had hoped.

You giggled and walked over to him, sitting down much more gently than he had done. He looked up at you from where he lay, arms tucked under his head. At that moment, you were convinced he was an angel. Unbeknownst to you, he thought the same as he watched your figure above him, the moonlight forming a halo around you.

You sat together, the flora framing you like a surreal painting, and you finally began to speak the words that weighed heavy on your heart since the last time you had been here.

"Neteyam, as you know, I am now able to choose a mate," You said, looking away to fiddle with the petals of the flower resting on your shoulder, "I wanted to let you know that I have chosen someone."

"Oh… Already?" Neteyam stammered, sitting up at the unexpected announcement. He looked at you with furrowed brows, lips pursed in a sulk, but your gaze remained on the flower, afraid to meet his. Of course you had chosen someone. He was stupid to think you had taken him here to tell him you loved him.

You hummed sweetly with a gentle smile he couldn't see, "I have known for a while. I was only waiting for my ceremony so that I could make it official."

He sighed, watching you. It was like Eywa herself had sculpted you with how beautiful you looked tonight; it only served as a reminder of what he thought he was about to lose. Self-doubt planted itself into his heart, a hefty root of insecurity that told him you would never love him back, "This person you chose… they must be very lucky."

"He is."

He was silent for a moment, conflicted. On the one hand, he wanted to shut you down, never find out your decision, in fear that you had not chosen him. On the other hand, he was your best friend; you were confiding in him, and he wanted to support you. With a heavy heart, he settled on the latter. "So, who is it?"

"Well, he is smart, funny, loyal… has the kindest heart I've seen." His heart panged with jealousy and hurt, but you turned to him with a love-sick smile that caught him off guard, "He's strong, and he is an amazing friend, a caring brother," You said, your eyes meeting his with a tenderness that crumbled his heart. He had to be dreaming. He met your gaze, a deep blush painting his cheeks, "He is also very oblivious to the person confessing their love to him right now."

Neteyam gradually started to grin, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as a dry laugh left his throat. He shook his head but couldn't battle the smile on his face.

"You cannot be serious," He muttered in disbelief. You had to be playing a cruel joke on him.

"It is how I feel, Neteyam." You attested, head tilting in an attempt to meet his eyes again. You had to admit his reaction wasn't anything you had expected it to be; you were having a hard time deciphering his behaviour, "If you do not feel the same, it is okay-"

"No, no!" Neteyam suddenly exclaimed, head shooting up only to find your face closer than expected. His breath caught in his throat at your proximity - you looked even more beautiful up close - but he willed himself to continue, "I mean, no, I don't not feel the same. I just…" He exhaled, eyes flicking upwards to the sky as if praying that Eywa would help him find the words he wanted to say. You noticed a rare, vulnerable gloom in his eyes, "I never thought…" he paused, struggling for words, "You can do better than me. "

You frowned. He had uttered the most unexpected thing he could have possibly said, "What?"

"You have better options… Marek has always been a great hunter. He has always given you looks," He babbled, eyes avoiding yours nervously, "And Arvok-"

"Neteyam."

He peeked at you finally, going quiet at the stern look on your face. He almost felt like he was being scolded by his mother; he would have laughed had it not been for the vulnerable situation.

"I think you are the only person I've ever heard try to convince a potential mate into not loving them," You scoffed, lips dancing into a grin as you grasped your hands in yours.

His cheeks flushed a deep violet, flustered. Mate. How long he had wished to hear that word fall from your lips as you spoke about him.

You smiled encouragingly, one hand cupping his cheek, "You are the one I want, you silly man."

Neteyam had no doubt now; he must have died and gone to heaven - or at least the Na'vi version of it. Only in his wildest dreams had he imagined that you would ever say those words. He laughed gleefully, grasping the hand you had on his face in his, leaning into your warm touch, "I have always wanted you. I wish I had known you felt the same."

You pushed him onto his back and climbed to sit on his lap, leaning down to meet his face with a goading grin, "What could have ever made you think I didn't want you?"

Neteyam looked up at you with such profound adoration that it made your knees weak, "You're just.. you. You're bright and strong and… perfect. Anyone would be lucky to have you," He went slightly quiet as if ashamed to speak the following words, "And after that night… you never said anything."

Of course, you knew what he was talking about; he didn't need to specify. It was the only thing on your mind for forever, and apparently, his too. You exhaled, amused at how stupid both of you had been, "You never said anything either!" You leaned down, placing a kiss on his neck. He tensed, grip tightening on your hips, but you continued, "We are very bad at communicating."

With sudden yearning, he flipped you over, your back hitting the soft grass as he held himself above you, "I'll make sure it never happens again," He muttered, face nuzzling into your neck, pressing fluttering kisses to your jaw.

You giggled, slightly ticklish from his touch. Your hands rose to play with the beads decorating his hair, fingers gently trailing down his scalp to the base of his head. Your hand followed the braid encasing his kuru, and you tugged it slightly to lift his gaze to meet yours. He groaned quietly, looking up at you in question through half-lidded eyes.

"I am ready," You whispered tenderly, eyes searching his for any doubt, "If you are."

"Yes," He spoke softly, an affectionate smile gracing his lips, "I have been for a long time."

Alluringly, he seized his kuru, dexterous fingers sweeping down the braided hair. You did the same, watching with bated breath as the organic tendrils fervently intertwined. As your queues connected, his eyes never left yours. You revelled at the sight of his pupils dilating in ecstasy, and you swore you had never seen a prettier sight. You felt every part of him, your souls connecting on a level you couldn't have even begun to imagine without experiencing firsthand. Your heart swelled with emotions, overwhelmed by his infinite adoration for you.

"Neteyam," you whined softly, delicate hands rising to hold his perfect face. He mewled in response, flustered from your sounds before his lips breathlessly met yours. Your skin flushed as he kissed you with all the passion he had pent up, relishing the quiet pleas that escaped your lips.

He knew he would never grow tired of you gasping his name.

[imababblekat]

Taking Care Of Baby Mutant Turtle W/ Donnie; Hc's

@valen-yamyam16 ,"hello how are you? I hope you're well, for days I have the idea of ​​the f!reader with donatello taking care of a mutant baby turtle that they rescued from the TCRI or something like that donie and reader can be two fools in love who haven't confessed yet. Hehe(also I imagine the newborn baby maybe 2 weeks old,and I don't know if you want the others to interact with the baby?)"

~xXx~

first off, the tiny tike for a reason unknown to anyone, is that they only seem to stay calm when Donnie and you are in the same room, but you BOTH have to be there! No exceptions!

it's like they know on some cosmic level that you two like each other, and are trying to get you both to hook up by playing some pseudo game of house

Mikey once joked that they're like you're little cherub, and you couldn't have shoved a pillow fast enough over his face to stop him from blurting your crush on his brother to the world

Donnie on the other hand thinks it's some kind of taunting joke the universe is playing on him for all the endless pinning he's felt towards you

but if anyone ask, he uses science as an excuse, saying that the baby mutant most likely imprinted on you and him as you both were the first to find them in a TCRI lab

Whatever the case is, you two work as a team to care for the little one

Donnie does everything he can to make sure they’re at optimum health, and you help with that by providing nutritional foods

They might be mutant, but no way are they starting life off on just pizza!

You learn so much about turtle health from Donnie, and he ends up learning a lot about taking care of children from your own experiences with human kids

Donatello gets extremely excited about picking out clothes for them, and you find his excitement very adorable

Part of you wonders if it’s because he didn’t get to have much of that option growing up, and so have no qualm with indulging in buying cute articles of clothes that your closest friend picks out for your little one

Donnie nearly dies when you two show up in matching onesies, and just about ascended to a different realm entirely when you present him with one as well, hand crafted by your own hands!

that baby is the safest baby in the world you best believe!!

not only do they have three amazing uncles and super bad ass grandpa, but neither you or Donnie would ever let any harm come to that child

Since the baby turt is so attached to you, everyone thought it best you live with the brothers and Master Splinter for the time being

This leads to many nights falling asleep in the lab or Donnie’s room since the small bab really wants to be near him as well

Just like with the four brothers Master Splinter collects baby pictures of the newest addition to the family

His favorite by far is one he took of Donnie and you huddled together next to a makeshift crib with the baby being cradled by you both, each one of you fast asleep in the others embrace

~xXx~

[cozage]

Kicks door down: HELLO

I accidentally sent this request when they were closed so sorry abt that. BUT.

Can you do the water healing one where y/n almost (or does. I’m down for angst) dies because they pushed themselves too much? Bonus points if they literally had no other option

Hi friend! This took me a second to get done because WOAH it was angsty!

CW: Reader death bc i love angst (blame supernova not me), marineford spoilers :) Characters: Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace Word Count: 2.8k

Part 1

Zoro

Zoro trusted you. He did. But Luffy shouldn’t be as energetic as he is right now, even with your healing. Luffy had gone down three times. And Zoro knew you had healed him twice before you had hit your limit. Zoro had seen you vomiting from the pain before he had to go fight his own battle. He had left you curled up in a ball crying in pain, but alive. 

It didn’t make sense how Luffy was so…bouncy. He should be sleeping off the pain and exhaustion from battle, but he wasn’t. So Zoro set off to find you, afraid of what he might find. 

There was an urgency to his movement, his pace faster than normal as he made his way to the last place he saw you. But you weren’t there. Instead, he found a trail of blood, leading off into a side hallway.

It was your blood. Zoro wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. Zoro clenched his jaw, preparing for the worst as he rounded the corner. But it was just another blood trail. 

He was running as he followed it, weaving around corners and down hallways. He finally came to a door, and the trail ended right in front of it. The doorknob had a dark red liquid on it, but Zoro hardly paid it any mind as he pulled the door open. He found you on the other side, sprawled out on the floor. He dove down to you, looking for any open wound that would need to have pressure applied. 

“Please,” he begged. “Wake up.”

He could tell by the amount of blood around you that it was too late to save you. He kneeled next to you and lifted your limp body, trying to get you to sit up. He checked for a pulse or any signs of breathing, but as he expected, there weren’t any. And so he held you, brushing away the hair that was matted on your face and whispered endless apologies. He should’ve found you sooner. You were only dead now because of his mistakes earlier. 

He held you against his chest and pressed his forehead against yours. Zoro knew he should be crying, but he hasn’t cried in years. He just sat there, softly begging you to wake up, waiting for you to show any signs of life. 

When the rest of the crew finds him, he’s as still as a statue. Nami’s wails and Chopper’s movements around your body don’t even faze him. He doesn’t even really hear them. It’s like he’s underwater, just waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Because he can’t survive the cold reality of living alone without you. 

Luffy

“Don’t heal me, you won’t…”

Those had been Luffy’s last words to you before he had fallen into unconsciousness from his injuries. He had a vague memory of you giving him a soft kiss and whispering something about the king of the pirates, but Luffy wasn’t sure if that was a dream or not. 

Now, as he looked at your broken body, he only felt one emotion. 

Rage. 

At himself. At you. At the universe, for being so cruel. And at the man in front of him, who took you away. 

Everyone thought that your death would immobilize Luffy, in the same way that Ace’s had. But it didn’t. He screamed in rage, and even his own crewmates struggled to stay conscious from the overwhelming power Luffy unleashed. 

Luffy had struggled against his foe, but now the fight was over in a moment. It was like a beast came out of him, snarling and destroying everything in its path. The enemy hadn’t even known what had hit him before he was dead. Luffy had a no kill policy, but an eye for an eye seemed more than fair right now. 

Only after the enemy was destroyed, did Luffy mourn. He ran to your side, asking Chopper to heal you. He begged the reindeer, pulling out each piece of equipment demanding “Have you tried this?!”

Half of the stuff wouldn’t have helped even if you were alive, but he still begged Chopper to try. And Chopper indulged him, even though the little reindeer was sobbing himself. 

When everything was out of the bag, Luffy finally gave in to despair. It was this moment where he went into complete shock, inconsolable at the thought of you truly being gone. He beat on the ground next to you, screaming and sobbing. 

“Please! Please come back!” He screamed over and over again, until his voice was gone. Even when his voice was gone, he just sat there and sobbed next to you. The crew sat with him quietly, waiting for him to finish his grieving. They sat with him all day and late into the night, each of them crying in their own way with him.

Sanji

Sanji had only seen this much blood one other time before. On Thriller Bark, when Zoro had taken all of Luffy’s pain. That’s what you had done too: taken all of Luffy’s pain. And Zoro’s pain. And his own. You had taken on all three of their injuries so they could keep fighting. 

“Go,” you whispered, laying on the floor. You tried to keep the sobs out of your voice, but Sanji heard them and stayed where he was. 

He held your head in his lap, gently stroking your hair. “Does this hurt, my love?”

“Sanji. You need to go fight.” You didn’t want him to see you like this. You knew it was the end. 

“I’m not leaving. You’re hurt. You need me.”

“I need you to go do your damn job,” you said. Tears were flowing out of your eyes onto his pants. “I need you to beat these guys and go find the All Blue. And make sure Luffy becomes King of the Pirates. And Zoro-” you struggled to breathe. “Zoro needs to be the greatest swordsman. Promise me?”

“Shhhh. Don’t talk,” he whispered. His voice was so soothing. You could feel your eyes getting heavier with each word. “Save your strength.”

“Sanji,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I promise.” His voice was thick with tears. “Just stay with me. I’m here.”

You felt wet drops hit your head, but you were too tired to turn and see if he was crying. You couldn’t even offer false hope. Words were too hard to form. Perhaps just a short rest would be good for you. 

Sanji was too scared to check your pulse, but he knew when you were gone. You just felt different in his arms. He couldn’t explain why. 

He sobbed. But he didn’t beg. He knew it was useless. A part of him had been scared of this happening since the very beginning. His father always told him he was cursed. Everything he loved always died. He was foolish to think you’d be the exception. And now he was alone again. It was almost enough to convince him to throw himself into the ocean and join you in the afterlife. 

But no, he made a promise. Your dying wish. So he had to do this for you and for his friends. He would protect Luffy, he would find the All Blue, and he’d even help that stupid marimo. Not because he wanted to do it. But because his promise to you was the only thing worth living for now. 

Law

When Law came back from the brink of death, he knew it was bad. When he came to his senses, he was laying on the ground, and you were crumpled on top of him. You had saved him again, given his energy back to keep fighting. And now you were in pain because of it. 

He could still feel his energy returning to him, slowly now. He cursed, realizing you were still struggling to help him. 

“Stop!” he hissed. He shambled you away from him, and you landed in the alleyway across the street with a sickening smack against the ground. 

“I told you not to help me!” he screamed at you. “I can fight my own battles!”

A roar came from down the street, and he remembered the reason he was so beat up in the first place. The enemy was closing in again, but with this newfound energy he would finish them off. And then he would deal with you. 

The battle was over quickly. It had been close before, but now he had the clear advantage, invigorated with energy from you and with the rage of almost losing. 

He walked back to the alley to find you, anger coursing through his veins at what you had done. You had made a promise, and you had always stuck to it. But he still hated it. 

“I told you not to help me during battle!” he yelled as he approached you. “I told you not to endanger yourself!”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even move, and that’s when Law realized you were still in the same position you had been when he sent you away. Your chest wasn’t even rising and falling. 

Panic spiked his heart rate, and he quickly shambled over to you. He ran a scan over your body. No Life Detected. 

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. His knees grew weak, and he collapsed next to you. 

“Y/n-ya. Wake up.”

But you were still frozen in place, only a trail of blood running from the corner of your mouth. 

“Please,” he begged, tears filling his eyes. “Please don’t do this. You promised.”

Your limp body offered no response, and he switched from begging to action. He began CPR, rushing through the events that led to this. You had been alive when he woke up, and the fight had only taken a few minutes. Your body wasn’t rigid, so there was still a possibility he could breathe life back into your lungs. 

But he was the Doctor of Death, and no miracles were performed that day. Instead, his crew found him an hour later, still giving you chest compressions. They watched for thirty minutes, before Shachi finally stepped in.

“Captain,” Shachi said standing next to him. “I don’t think-”

“Shut up!” Law barked. He didn’t stop his rhythm. If he could just get your heart to beat on its own for a moment, it would all be okay.

“You can’t leave me,” Law choked out in a sob. “You promised.”

His crew let him continue to try to revive you, even though they all knew it was a fruitless endeavor. Finally, after three hours, he collapsed. 

His crew rarely saw him shed a tear, but today he sobbed into your chest with more emotion than he had ever shown. And he was never really the same afterwards, either. 

Ace

“I can fix him!” you screamed, running out towards the brothers. 

“Like hell,” Marco yelled, grabbing your wrist to hold you back. “It’s too bad. You know that. You can’t save him.”

“I can,” you sobbed. “I have to. I have to!”

You pulled yourself out of Marco’s grip, and dashed towards Luffy.

“Ace…” Luffy breathed out. “You can’t die.”

“He won’t,” you assured him, sitting down next to him. Ace’s wound looked even worse from here, and you could feel bile rising in your mouth. You had to resist the urge to vomit. You had work to do. 

“Luffy, stay with me, okay? I need you to be ready to take him to safety.”

You were prepared to die for him. You had been for a while. There was no better way to go than saving the man you loved. 

“Dont-” Ace sputtered, coughing up blood.

You pressed your lips to his cheek. “I love you, Ace. Keep living for me, okay?”

Those were fitting last words, and so you pulled out some water from your flask and placed your hands over the hole in his chest. It didn’t matter that everyone was watching you while you did this. You were the last of your kind. Your power would die with you. 

The pain came instantly, just as it had for Ace. You could feel your insides shredding apart as you used your power to repair him. His heart, his vital organs, that’s what you chose to focus on. The things he couldn’t live without had to be repaired by you. Marco could do the rest when they were safe. 

You could feel Ace fighting you, desperate to get away from your grip, but you held on tight, even as your vision became dark and blurry, even as you felt consciousness beginning to slip away, you would continue healing him until the end. 

--

What was only a few seconds felt like eternity, and Ace felt his body slowly begin to heal. He could breathe again.

“Luffy,” he mumbled. “Get her off of me.”

“Ace. Your wound.” Luffy pulled back to look at Ace. “It’s closing up.”

“She’s dying,” Ace sobbed, trying to push your limp body off of him. 

“I’ll be damned,” Akainu said, staring down at your work. “I thought that power was just a myth.”

“Luffy, take her away. Now!” Ace yelled, pushing you towards his little brother. 

“A shame her sacrifice will amount to nothing, though,” Akainu said from behind. Ace felt volcanic heat stir up behind him again. Another strike from Akainu was coming, but Ace was paralyzed with grief.

Jinbe jumped in front of Ace and held off the attack. “Ace, my friend. You have been given another chance. You mustn't lose it now!”

Luffy helped Ace to his feet, still staring at his chest where a hole had once been. It wasn’t completely healed, but Ace was moving. That’s all that mattered.

“We can’t leave her,” Ace said, tears flooding out of her eyes. “Luffy, we can’t-”

Ace’s body racked with a fit of coughs, and Luffy stopped. “Ace! Are you okay?! Does it hurt?!”

“We need to go get her,” Ace said, starting to turn back. But Luffy kept propelling him forward. 

His crewmates were cheering them on, not realizing what your healing had cost you. “If we get you to the ship, we win! Ace! Come on!”

But Ace kept fighting Luffy, trying to go back for you. He couldn’t leave you like this. You had sacrificed everything and now you were lying there in the dirt under Akainu. It wasn’t fair. This was his fault. 

“I’ll get her,” Marco yelled. “Keep going, Ace. You need to go! Pops put everything on the line for you! Don’t waste it now!”

When they finally made it back to the ship, Ace’s eyes scoured the horizon, waiting for Marco to return with you. People were celebrating their victory, but Ace felt like he was going to throw up. 

Finally he saw Marco, carrying your too limp body. As Marco landed on the deck, Ace could see tears in his eyes. 

“No,” Ace whimpered. “No. No! NO! Marco, fix her!”

Everyone stopped to watch the scene unfold. Even Luffy was at a loss for words. 

Marco laid your body down on the deck and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I can’t fix her, Ace. She’s gone.”

“No she’s not! You just didn’t try hard enough!” Ace bent down next to you, grabbing your body and shaking it. “Wake up, Y/N! Wake up! You told me you wouldn’t do this.”

Everyone watched as Ace collapsed against you, violently sobbing into your chest. He slammed his hands against the deck, cursing the world and cursing himself, screaming loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Marco waited a few minutes before intervening. “Ace,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “You need to stop.”

“I love you,” Ace sobbed into your chest, beating against the deck. His hands were starting to get bloody from the repetitive punching. “Please stay with me.”

“Ace,” Marco tried again. “If you keep acting like this, your wound will reopen.”

“Let me die, then,” Ace cried. 

“Like hell!” Marco yelled, infuriated with his fellow commander. “You will NOT make her sacrifice and everyone else's sacrifice be in vain! I won’t let you!”

“You don’t get it, Marco!” Ace yelled. He tried to stand, and staggered a bit in the process. “She was the only thing worth living for.”

“And now you have to live with the fact that your disobedience killed her,” Marco’s words were harsh, but true. “But you still have to live! Or else you’d be spitting in her face!”

Ace screamed out in rage and charged towards Marco. However, Ace’s injury made him much slower than usual, and Marco ducked beneath the attack and jumped behind him. 

Ace felt a small pinch in the back of his neck, and the world started to go dark. “I won’t let you kill yourself. She would never forgive me,” Marco whispered, catching Ace as he lost his footing.

As Ace plunged into darkness, all he wanted was to see you one more time. To apologize for all the trouble he caused.

[rachaelthemes]

Ocular — Version 3

Preview // User Guide // More Info & Install

your favorite sidebar theme just got an upgrade, babeyyy

I went to update Ocular to make it NPF post-compliant and then my hand slipped and I redesigned the whole thing lmao. here's a brief update about Ocular 3; if you're looking for a full list of changes between versions 2 and 3, click the "Read More" below)

Ocular comes with the following features:

Colors: easily change the color scheme of your sidebar and posts using any colors you want

Post sizes: 400px, 500px, 540px, 600px, 700px

Sidebar: can be on the left, right, or above the posts. pick from a list of sidebar sizes, header image heights, and avatar shapes

Fonts: 20 different fonts, sizes 13px to 18px

Background: solid, gradient, full-size image or repeating image

Links: choose either regular navigation or drop-down navigation. unlimited custom links (visit the help desk FAQ for a tutorial) and ability to rename home, ask, submit, and archive links

Endless scroll, custom ask box text, Tumblr's full-width controls and search bar, optional header, avatar, and favicon images

if you already have Ocular installed, version 3 should be coming at you as soon as the update passes the theme garden. if you installed this theme with GitHub, you'll have to re-install manually.

now let's get to the fun stuff. what's new in version 3?

wow, do I have some updates for you!

1. goodbye color schemes, hello post background and text colors

you can now directly control the color of the posts rather than relying on color schemes to do it. want your posts to be a very specific shade of navy? all yours, buddy. go wild (make sure it's readable tho)

2. hello, color schemes! wait I thought we got rid of that guy

a lot of the color schemes I made became redundant now that the new post background/text color options exist. if you were married to the old color schemes, all of them can be recreated using those options. so the new color scheme options are as follows:

"My colors" — uses the colors you picked for post background/text

"Light preset" and "dark preset" — sets the posts to white with black text, or off-black with white text

"Translucent" — uses the colors you choose for post background/text, but makes the post backgrounds semi-transparent. there are NINE different translucent color schemes, ranging from 90% (only slightly see-through) to 10% (VERY see through)

3. navigation dropdown option

you can either use the sidebar links like they were before, or you can turn them into a cute little dropdown (helpful if you have lots of links or links with long titles!) you can enable this using the "use dropdown navigation" setting. you can also customize the label for the dropdown using the "dropdown menu label" setting. for instance, the dropdown on my blog currently says "oooh you wanna click me"

4. RIP google fonts I always hated your load times

decided to stop using Google Fonts and instead I'm providing the font files directly in the code. this will help speed up load times drastically when using custom fonts, plus I don't have to use Google. win-win! there's quite a bit of coverage overlap with the old fonts, but some of them that were too similar to each other got the ax. I also added all of the system fonts as options (hit classics like Arial, Georgia, and Comic Sans MS are now available TO YOU!)

5. more layout, sizing, and spacing options

the sidebar used to be either on the center-left, center-right, or above the posts; now it can go in the top-left or top-right! you can now control the border radius on the posts and sidebar. the header height, sidebar width, and post spacing all have additional options.

6. some options have been renamed for additional clarity

"background color 1" -> "background color"

"background color 2" -> "gradient background color"

"background" -> "background style"

"font override" -> "use body font everywhere"

"title" -> "sidebar title"

"description" -> "sidebar description"

"ask box text" -> "custom HTML above ask box"

7. removed some options

you win some, you lose some. I removed the uppercase sidebar links, theme credit, and inline media spacing options, mostly for redundancy reasons or because they produced unclear results.

8. as previously stated, now NPF-compliant

Ocular was ALMOST compliant with Tumblr's new post format, but had a few tweaks that needed to be ironed out. they're now ironed.

9: now user-friendly right out of the box

I updated the default color and content options, so new users installing this theme will have a much easier time using and customizing it immediately. no more ugly ass green background!

10. and finally, new JS

I had to rewrite some of the javascript for this theme, which turned into me rewriting ALL of the javascript. doing so meant that I could eliminate dependencies on third-party JS libraries and run the whole thing on plain JS. that should improve load times!!

bonus: custom CSS can do some nifty stuff now

want to change the size of your avatar? you can do that now! just do this to your Advanced > Add custom CSS section

super helpful if you're using the Avatar shape: Uncropped setting and you need your image to be a specific size (like a pixelated GIF)

for more info, check out the Ocular user guide. thanks for reading my updates!! hope you all have a fantastic start to your 2024 ❤️

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈

🍑peaches world (and the men that just exist in it) masterlist🍑

summary - the beginning on how you were kidnapped by the king of koopa kingdom, buckle in your seatbelts and enjoy the ride, because this will be a smutty rollercoaster.

warning - mentions of cock, kidnapping, inappropriate feelings/thoughts, swearing.

18+ only please, the gif isn’t mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You watched your kingdom from above, it was a peaceful day as your people walked around and lived their lives happily. Usually, things were more of a ruckus. With a smile you turned and began to walk out of your room and down the hall, your pretty pink dress falling gracefully to the floor and sways with each step. You were happy, Lloyd and his brother Tangerine were currently out helping the people, so you had the castle to yourself.

You were wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You had many options, you could improve your parkour, do some painting that you always wanted to do but pushed to the side, you could go outside and tend to your flowers. The possibilities were endless and just as you were about to take the last step, a hand wraps around and covers your mouth. Your eyes widen, your hands immediately go up to try and pull whoever it is away. You freeze when they speak, feeling their massive body pressing against you.

“Shh, little Princess. You don’t want to warn the guards now, do you?” Ari Bowser Levinson is the one currently holding you. Your enemy, your rival. The King of The Koopa Kingdom. “That’s a good little Princess, staying nice and quiet for me.” You try to fight the shiver that runs through your body, knowing it’s wrong to feel this way when you are with someone. “Do you know how shit your security system is, Princess? I managed to slip right in, I mean. Someone really bad could’ve broken in and taken you for themselves, don’t you understand how dangerous that is.” He whispers like he isn’t the really bad person. You wiggle, trying to move away but you end up brushing your arse against him instead causing him to groan. “I wouldn’t do that, Princess. Unless you are wanting me to take you right here.”

You stop abruptly and your eyes widen, suddenly everything goes black. You don’t remember anything after that, and when you finally wake with your eyes fluttering open. You look around, confused. The walls and floors are grey, you tilt your head as you notice a large screen resting against the wall. Your attention is brought away from it when Ari enters the room. “Good morning, little Princess! Has my little Princess made herself comfortable in her new home?” He towers over you as he’s around 8 feet tall. He stalks closer, bending over to stare at your sitting form. “I sure hope so, because if I get my way, you will be staying here for the rest of your life!” He grins, and you shiver as it comes off evil-like. His eyes holding something much darker behind them. 

“Screw you and your plan, Ari! I’m sure Lloyd and his brother are already on their way to come rescue me!” You huff, arms crossing over your chest unknowingly pushing your breasts together and giving the older man/monster a lovely view. Your bottom lip juts out and you try to glare at him, failing miserably with how small and cute you are compared to him.

Ari coos, “You are correct, my smart little Princess. As far as I’ve been informed, they are already on their way!” He watches you jump with joy, your breasts bouncing with each movement, and he feels his cock twitch, licking his lips as soon the fun will begin. 

“Really?! They are coming?! That’s great!” You continue to jump, clapping your hands as a giant grin appears on your face. 

Ari laughs, shaking his head and moving closer to you. Backing you into the wall. “Not so fast, little Princess. Not everything is going to be easy for you.” He grins, placing his arm next to you against the wall. Ari directs you toward the screen, his arm wraps around you, making you feel even smaller, those darn tingles appearing again, and you try to push them away knowing how wrong it is. His hand reaches into his pocket, receiving a remote and you eye it. Your eyes move from the remote to his hands, wondering how they can still look so good with the claws. 

You had always heard stories before Ari turned his attention toward you and your kingdom. (Mostly you, but you didn’t think someone would be so obsessed with just you.) He was once a man that got his karma, being turned into half of a turtle. His already big build helped him mutate into something more monstrous. Horns in certain places, claws, sharp fangs, a larger cock. (Not that anyone got to see, but I guess it’ll be your lucky day.) 

Ari snaps you out of your thoughts, smirking when he catches you staring at his hands. “Two days have passed since I kidnapped you, little Princess. Where do you think Lloyd and his brother are now?” He hums.

“I presume they should be knocking at the door to enter the castle, right about now. I think…” You blink up at him, brows furrowed. 

Ari boops your nose, smirking wider than before. “Alright, if you have that much hope in your little boyfriend. Let’s watch it live to see how they are doing, shall we, little Princess?” You both face the tv, his large finger pressing the on button and he grins at your wide tear-filled eyes. 

“They’re at the beginning?! But how?! What are they still doing there?!” You yell in disbelief. Sure, the brothers were a bit slow sometimes, but you would’ve thought that saving you would make them go a bit faster. You begin to scream at the screen, hoping that they would be able to hear you. “It’s been two days, and you are still there?! I’m not even in that fucking world!” Ari chuckles behind his hand as he hears you swear, you look so cute as your cheeks puff out. “I’m in Bowser’s castle! Everyone knows it’s the biggest and most guarded of them all! Those are just fucking decoys!” You stomp your foot, practically throwing a tantrum, not noticing the big bad King sneaking closer behind you. “You fucking idiots! They’ll kill you now! Fucking watch out! That’s just the first Goomba of that level! Don’t let him touch you, you idiots!” 

“This is going to take a while, little Princess. So… Why don’t we have some fun while we wait.” Ari smirks as you turn with a confused look on your face. Before you can react, he rips your dress from your body, and you stand there with wide eyes. “Oh, we are definitely going to have some fun, little Princess.”

would you like to follow the game? if yes, please click round 1 when the link is avaliable.

𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 1

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mariasont]

hi!! I have a spencer reid x fem!reader request, how about emily plotline but it's spencer instead of emily and reader totally falls apart after she thinks he died, to the point of self-destructive behaviors. she simply can't cope. i totally understand if you're not comfortable with writing something like that, though.

i hope you're having a great day <3

Beyond the Grave - S.R

a/n: angellllll thank you so much for requesting !!!!!! <3 i hope you have the BEST day ever!

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: angst, spencer dead for a hot sec then he's not, reader using alcohol to cope, weight loss briefly mentioned, unhealthy coping methods, happy ending!

wc: 1.7k

The knocks were there again, a stubborn sound you chose to ignore as you smothered yourself with your pillow. You willed yourself to drown out the noise and fall back asleep, to forget that your existence now had shrunk to the four corners of your mattress--a fact that didn't necessarily bring you any pride.

When it first happened, you were in a constant state of disbelief. The harsh truth that Spencer had died, leaving a void that you were powerless to fill, seemed to a cruel joke. You found yourself caught in an endless loop of denial, half-expecting him to stroll through the door or wake up to the realization that this was all just a bad dream.

But that never happened so you spent your days imprisoned in your own home, a shell of your former self, devoid of anything that once animated your being. You distanced yourself from everything that once brought you happiness--your family, your friends, your gardening.

You had just introduced Spencer to it a couple months before it happened--when to plant each flower, how to prepare the soil, the schedule of watering. But now it all felt very meaningless, and the once-tended garden became a forgotten space, overgrown and disregarded.

Each morning at work, you were met with a twisting, angry sickness--a gnawing reaction to the collective failure of everyone in that room. You had all let him down, and now the weight of never seeing his smile again was a blade that kept twisting deeper. It was excruciating.

The blow landed on you with a severity that others seemed spared from. You couldn't simply erase the memory and move on. It wasn't an option; it was etched into your very being, monopolizing every thought and sensation.

The team had attempted to piece you back together, but eventually, their help felt like a stabbing reminder. You were beyond repair, a lost cause--you skipped meals, you never slept, you drank too much. With every look in the mirror, you saw the reflection of someone slowly crumbling away. 

Finally, you were angry, a scalding feeling that spread through your veins. You were furious at Spencer leaving you, at the unsub for taking him away, and at yourself for failing to save him, for arriving too late, for watching him struggle against the knife, for watching him disappear into surgery and not come out.

The incessant knocking persisted, an annoyance that finally drew you from your bed. Your limbs were heavy with sleep, a thick haze still clouding your mind. You dragged yourself toward the door, a string of mental curses directed at the uncivilized disturber--likely Penelope with her usual invites for a girl's night out.

But as you swung the door open, the familiar world upended itself, flipped around, and splatted to the bottom of the universe. Dryness clung to your throat, your hands rendered numb at your sides.

And there he was--Spencer, not a ghost, not a figment conjured by your overwrought imagination, but flesh and blood--alive. You fought the urge to pinch yourself. You questioned your sanity briefly, but those eyes--his eyes--were indelibly seared in your memory. You would know them anywhere.

You can't breathe, can't form coherent thoughts. This moment is the very one you've replayed in your dreams, a thousand different ways, and now that it's tangibly here, you can't breathe.

Spencer's heart squeezed at the sight of you. Your eyes were swollen and tinged with the redness as if you'd been crying or just woken up or both. Your hair was shorter than he remembered, ending just shy above your shoulders. You face was washed and hollowed out; the color sapped away as if the sun had become a stranger to you.

"Hey," his voice floated to you, soft as though he was worried you might vanish at any louder sound.

A hesitant hand reached out, trembling as if half-expecting it to pass right through him. But when your fingers brushed against his--solid and warm--reality intensified to an almost unbearable degree, too visceral to be anything but real. 

"B-But you're dead," you choke out, a tremor in each syllable. Your fingers find their way to your lips, the ground seeming to spin in a disorienting whirl. "Spencer, I watched you die."

"Can I come in?"

He didn't wait for an answer, stepping around you into the room. His eyes swept over the cluttered space--the litter of empty alcohol bottles, the stacks of dirt dishes. His heart plummeted, a sinking stone to the pit of his stomach.

One of the first things he noticed about you was your near-compulsive need for keeping things clean, orderly. Your desk had been organized to an almost surgical degree, and Morgan took a secret pleasure in disrupting your system, shifting your pens just to get a reaction. But Spencer had memorized the exact coordinates of your things and discreetly corrected each item before you could notice.

So, this, the sight of your neglected home was something he never thought he'd see.

"Maybe we should sit?" Spencer suggested, more firmly. "I have explanations for everything."

With a nod, you make you way to the couch. His gaze lingers on you, taking in the way the clothes that once hugged you, now draped over your frame in loose folds. He noted the strained swallow, the constant bobbing of your knee, and the startled wideness in your eyes, as if you weren't really sure how to process the sudden influx of information.

He told you everything--why he faked his death, what he had been doing this whole time, why it wasn't Hotch's fault for keeping it from you, and why you had to be kept in the dark. 

His expectations hadn't included you jumping up and down at the sight of him, but the coldness he encountered caught him off guard. Brows knitted downward, knees angled away as if his presence was unbearable, you offered no words when he spoke, an occasional vacant look washing over your features.

"Did you even think of me once, or was I out of sight, out of mind?"

The words surprised him, your tone casual, but your balled fists resting on your knees betrayed you.

"I never stopped thinking of you," Spencer's response was immediate, his hand reaching towards yours.

But you recoiled immediately, shaking your head.

"No, no," you stammered out, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to speak. "You can't just...leave me and come back and act as if... as if...it's all okay."

Your voice broke with every word and so did his heart.

With a quick motion, you're on your feet, nearly tripping over the disorder that's invaded your space. Spencer's instinct is to reach out, to steady you, but he knows better.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, standing to follow your movements. "I didn't have a choice. Believe me, if there was any other way, I'd never have left. I couldn't--"

He paused, a hand brushing through his hair as he blew out a breath.

"But that's just it, Spencer, I don't believe you," you snap, voice trembling with indignation. "You were my best friend, the one person I relied on, and you disappeared."

He started to speak, but you took a step back holding your hand out to stop him. 

"No, you died Spencer. I went to your funeral. I stood over your grave, and now you're here." Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you turned away, hiding your face. "How can you just stand there after all of that?"

Spencer moves closer. "You're being unfair," he says cornering you against the wall. "Why are you being like this?"

His eyes search yours, probing for an explanation, and you give it to him, raw and unfiltered.

"Why am I being like this? Maybe because I'm in love with you."

Spencer's steps falter, retreating as if struck. 

"Oh, come on, don't act so surprised," you blurt out, already wishing you could take back the words. "I know you know." You're rambling now. "I mean, in team briefings I always save you a seat, in meetings I'm always the first one to back your theories, and for crying out loud I got you a copy of the first edition of On the Origin of Species by Darwin for your birthday, like do you know how hard that was to find? What platonic friend would--"

Your admissions pour out unchecked until Spencer's hands are on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours, stopping the flow of your confessions. 

Your breath hitches, a startled sound muffled by Spencer's mouth, a rush of surprise coursing through you. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, but as quickly as it comes, it fades into a warmth that blooms deep in your chest, and you're kissing him back with a desperation that matches the pounding of your heart. 

The world narrows down to the sweet pressure of his mouth moving with careful ease against yours, your hands finding their way to his hair, tangling with the soft strands as you melt into him. 

You pull back just enough to see his eyes, your breaths mingling, foreheads still touching, softly panting. 

"I'm still so upset with you," you whisper, your eyes glistening. 

Spencer's hands are soft on your skin, brushing away the tear. "I know. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

You nibble on your lower lip and give a small nod. Spencer responds by wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer. "Promise?" you ask, heart in your throat. "I don't want you to leave me again."

You had never felt so vulnerable. 

"Promise," he replies. "I'm not going anywhere, baby."

You let out a shaky breath, the reality of his words setting in. In a moment of boldness, you reach up to trace the lines of his face, memorizing every detail. 

Spencer's eyes soften, and he whispers, "By the way, I love you too. From the very first moment I saw you."

It's like a key turning a lock. You don't say anything, you don't need to. The silence is enough--the quiet understanding that you'll heal, you'll grow, just like the garden waiting for your return.

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