#i have never drank a cup of coffee in my life

[caramelmochacrow]

I love Brazil. Brazil is the best.

[incognit0slut]

All I Need

Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:

Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making

words: 2077

A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲

“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”

SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with��from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.

He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.

"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.

He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.

But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.

Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.

Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.

Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.

You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.

As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.

Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless. 

The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me." 

Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.

He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."

Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"

The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."

A whine broke out of you.

"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."

You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.

Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.

The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"

You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."

He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."

When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.

They were so full of love.

And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.

You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.

"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.

"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."

His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.

There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.

"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.

He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"

Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."

You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"

Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.

Marry me.

You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?

And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.

You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.

You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.

"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."

He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."

His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.

"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."

A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.

You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.

He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion. 

And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.

.

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[pin-k-ink]

your fics r amazing..... can i req for some hoshina dubcon something ahahahaha

......thanks.... no pressure... ✌️

company policy // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ dub-con, obsessive behavior, kinda sorta blackmail?,mentions of violence, injuries and threats, breeding kink, fingering, squirting, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of lactation and pregnancy, dirty talk, male masturbation, virginity loss

wc ⇢ 4.2k

a/n: i finally remembered that this man had a kansai dialect. but i kept giggling while writing his dialogues because i kept hearing him saying it in a southern accent. almost turned this into a non-con too

"Sleep well, my lil' warrior..."

Soshiro's fingers hovered over the glass, aching to reach through and brush aside the unruly strands of hair splayed across your face. To think, after all these months of silent admiration, of doing whatever it took to keep you off the battlefield, here you were - bandaged and bedridden because of his actions.

A pang of guilt twisted in his gut, quickly smothered by the relief of knowing you were alive, recuperating safely away from harm's reach. He'd made the tough call, purposefully restricting your combat suit's capabilities before the mission so you’d be forced to take it easy. Soshiro was well aware how you'd rail against such coddling...if you ever discovered the truth.

But that was a chance he was willing to take. Seeing your battered form encased in the med bay's healing pod, he knew he'd made the right call. He'd gladly endure your fury if it meant protecting you, his secret obsession.

A rueful chuckle slipped past Soshiro's lips as his gaze drank in your peaceful features. "Who'd have thought I’d fall so damned hard for a feisty recruit I ain't never properly met?"

His fingers curled against the cool glass longingly. "One day, darlin'..." he murmured, the depth of his affections laying unspoken. "One day, you'll understand why I gotta do this."

With a regretful sigh, Soshiro tore himself away from the window and your oblivious, slumbering form. But he knew he'd return soon, compelled as always by the inexplicable hold you had over his heart.

Soshiro nursed his cup of coffee, gaze fixated across the bustling room to where you sat amongst a group of fellow recruits. Even from this distance, he could make out the weariness weighing on your features after yesterday's intense healing session.

"Keep on pushin' through, darlin'," he murmured under his breath. "That fightin' spirit of yours is one helluva turn-on."

His eyes shamelessly trailed over the curves of your face, the delicate line of your jaw, the fullness of your lips as you laughed at something your friend said. Soshiro's chest clenched with a heated yearning, imagining what it might feel like to capture those plush lips with his own. To finally sate the burning curiosity about how you tasted, how you'd melt into his embrace.

A gruff noise rumbled up from his throat. As tantalizing as such fantasies were, he knew pursuing anything more than distant admiration would only lead to your ruin. The life of a Defense Force officer was no place for fragile things like romance.

No, his duty was to shield you from the harsh realities of battle - by any means necessary. Even if that meant ruthlessly exploiting your weaknesses during training to have you discharged from active duty. The ache of losing your radiant presence would be preferable to watching you be torn apart by vicious kaiju.

Soshiro's grip tightened around his mug as you rose, tray fully empty, and began weaving through the tables towards the exit. Soon you'd report for training, ignorant of the torturous "learning experience" he had meticulously planned.

"Forgive me, darlin'," he rasped, allowing himself one final lingering look before you disappeared from sight. "But a couple bruises now are better than losin' ya for good later on..."

Soshiro's jaw clenched as he watched you struggle valiantly against the onslaught of small yoju, desperately dodging and firing with the dampened capabilities he'd restricted your combat suit to. A flicker of pride sparked in his chest at your tenacity, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

But that flicker was quickly extinguished as the timer hit zero, klaxons blaring to signal your failure to neutralize the targets in time. With a few taps, Soshiro locked the yoju away, leaving you panting and sweat-drenched in the center of the training ground.

"Not good enough," he barked out, the harsh edge to his drawl making the words cut deeper than intended. "Everyone else, dismiss'd! [L/N], stay put - we need to have a lil' talk."

You froze at his order, eyes widening slightly at the uncharacteristic sternness emanating from the vice-captain. As the other recruits filed out, he could practically feel the nervous tension rolling off you in waves.

Once the room was empty save for the two of you, Soshiro stalked forward, letting his presence loom over your smaller frame. "Just what in the hell was that pathetic display, hmm?" he growled lowly. "I expected better from someone of your alleged skills."

"V-Vice Captain Hoshina, I...I gave it everything I had," you stammered meekly, unable to meet his suddenly intense gaze. "The yoju were just too much, especially when something is wrong with my suit."

A derisive snort escaped him at your excuse. Of course the weak yoju were far beyond your temporarily reduced capabilities - all to drive home this harsh lesson. "And d'you think the kaiju'll take it easy on ya when we're out in the field?"

Unconsciously, he stepped even closer, drinking in the fearful sheen glistening in your eyes, the tantalizing scent of your exertion surrounding him. "This is the reality you'd face if you can't hack it, [L/N]. A harsh, brutal reality that will slaughter the weak without hesitation."

Soshiro's chest heaved with each ragged breath, barely restraining the urge to reach out and grab you, to shake some sense into you before you got yourself killed with this stubborn insistence on fighting. But he held himself rigidly in check, letting the heat of his words instead try to drive you away from this deadly path.

"I suggest you get your act together," he bit out grufly. "Before these small kaiju ain't enough to prepare ya for what's comin'..."

As Soshiro turned to stalk away, your uncharacteristically defiant voice rang out behind him.

"With all due respect, vice-captain, I don't think the training was fair today." You straightened your shoulders, holding his narrowed gaze. "I train just as hard as anyone, but those yoju were far too overpowered for a standard exercise."

A low, rumbling chuckle reverberated up from Soshiro's chest as he slowly turned to face you once more. In an instant, the mocking grin slipped from his lips, replaced with a predatory smirk that made your breath catch.

"Oh? And what would a silly lil' thing like you know about 'fair', hmm?" He closed the distance between you with heavy, deliberate steps, eyes roaming insolently over your sweat-sheened form. "All yer meant to know is how to follow orders without that pretty lil' mouth flappin' so much."

Soshiro loomed over you, his powerful frame radiating scorching waves of dominance that had your knees quaking. You shrank back reflexively, but not nearly far enough to evade his sudden grip on your arm, wrenching you flush against his rock-hard body.

"P-Please, vice-captain..." you squeaked out, feeling utterly dwarfed by his commanding presence, the earthy musk of his body surrounding you.

"Please what, [L/N]?" he purred darkly, warm breath fanning across your face and sending a shiver down your spine. "Use yer words carefully now...unless you'd prefer I just shut those pretty lips up for good."

His free hand drifted up, calloused fingertips grazing your jaw teasingly before thumbing at your trembling lower lip. The urge to simply seize your mouth with his, to ravage that insolent pout into sweet submission nearly overwhelmed Soshiro.

A harsh groan rumbled up from deep within him as your bodies molded instinctively closer. Feeling the tantalizingly soft curves of your form against his rapidly hardening cock proved too exquisite a temptation. With a muttered oath, he abruptly released you, putting distance between your intoxicating heat and his tenuous restraint.

"Don't flatter yerself, [L/N]," Soshiro bit out roughly, fighting to temper the raw hunger blazing through his veins. "Startin' to think my standards for this Division were set too damned low if you made the cut..."

He paced the confines of his room like a caged animal, calloused fingers raking agitatedly through his tousled hair. The memory of your trembling form pressed flush against him, deliciously pliant and alluring, had awakened a white-hot need that could not be ignored.

"Goddamn stubborn woman..." Soshiro growled under his ragged breaths, futilely trying to banish the images of you whimpering beneath his towering frame, rosy lips parted so enticingly. With a guttural snarl, he flung himself onto his bed, fingers already working furiously to free his painfully strained cock.

There was only one way to douse this all-consuming burn you'd stoked within him. As Soshiro's rough palm wrapped around his throbbing length, he allowed himself to fully surrender to the forbidden fantasy of pinning you beneath him. To hear your gasps and mewls as he roughly spread those thighs and laid claim to your tight, quivering pussy...

A punched-out groan tore from Soshiro's lips as he stroked his cock with fevered urgency, sweat beading along his brow and muscles straining against the tide of pleasure relentlessly cresting over him. He craved nothing more than to bury himself to the hilt in your velvety cunt, to mark and rut you into sweet, whimpering submission until you screamed his name.

With a hoarse roar, Soshiro's release finally scorched through his veins, painting his chest with thick ropes of creamy cum. Harsh pants wracked his heaving frame as he caught his breath, the echo of your imagined cries still ringing blissfully in his ears.

"Hah...maybe that'll...clear my head for a lil' while," he rasped out, slowly coming down from his high. "Though knowin' you...darlin', it won't be nearly enough..."

Soshiro's boots pounded down the med bay corridor, jaw clenched so tightly it creaked. He didn't even bother trying to mask the frustration rolling off him in waves - not after hearing you'd gotten injured out there...again.

This was exactly why he'd fought so hard to get you discharged from active duty! How many more of these terrifying hospital visits could his heart withstand before it gave out from the stress?

Without ceremony, he barged through the door to your recovery room, cold fury simmering in his piercing gaze as he took in your banged up form. You startled awake at the commotion, eyes widening upon recognizing your intimidating visitor.

"V-Vice Captain Hoshina! I...what are you doing here?" you squeaked out, frantically trying to pull your sheets up to preserve some sense of modesty before your imposing superior.

Soshiro felt his bravado falter for just a moment at the naked surprise and confusion shining in your eyes. Of course you had no idea about the lengths he'd gone to in secret - tampering with your gear, ruthlessly pushing you past your limits, all in hopes of forcing you from the dangers of active duty. To you, he was likely just another high-ranking officer, his motivations as enigmatic as his exterior.

But that careful illusion shattered the moment he drank in your form. A familiar feeling of cold dread and gut-wrenching fear lanced through Soshiro's core, quickly transmuting into an explosive surge of heated frustration. How many more times could he endure the torment of seeing you blown back through those med bay doors, hovering on the edge of death's embrace?

"What am I doin' here?" he growled out, taking an aggressive step towards your bed until his looming frame cast you in shadow. "I'm here cuz you constantly insist on putting yourself in harm's way with this bullheaded defense force crusade of yours!"

Your lips parted, clearly wanting to protest, but Soshiro barreled forward before you could unleash whatever platitude about duty and sacrifice. "Don't even try feeding me that self-righteous drivel about 'protectin' the people' or any other heroic claptrap. You're just a damned adrenaline junkie who can't seem to resist the urge to throw herself into mortal peril at every possible turn!"

He could feel his ragged breaths sawing in and out, pupils blown wide with scarcely restrained emotion as he drank in the fearful flutter of your lashes, the unconscious nibble of your plush lower lip. In that moment of searing intensity, a shocking new idea blazed to life in Soshiro's mind - one that could potentially solve this agonizing conundrum once and for all.

After all, the Defense Force had strict policies about pregnant recruits being prohibited from active combat...

A cruel, predatory smirk slowly curved Soshiro's lips as he leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of your prone form until his face was mere inches from yours. "Tell me, [L/N]..." he purred in a low, sinful timbre, unable to resist trailing the tip of his nose along the heated line of your jaw. "How badly d'you wanna stay part of the Defense Force? Enough to take...more permanent measures to keep that lil' body of yours off the battlefield for good?"

Soshiro's calloused knuckles grazed your flushed cheek as he cupped your jaw firmly, forcing you to meet his smoldering gaze. "I asked you a question, [L/N]. Are you that damned set on keepin' your spot with the Third Division? Enough to do whatever it takes to make sure that sweet lil' body of yours stays outta harm's way for good?"

You tried to protest, to put space between yourself and the scorching intensity radiating off his towering frame. But Soshiro's iron grip held you immobile, thumb digging possessively into the softness of your lower lip as his obsidian eyes bored straight through you.

"I-I don't under—" Your words tumbled away into a pathetic whimper as he leaned in impossibly closer, lips brushing the sensitive shell of your ear.

"Shhh..." he hushed you with a deep rumble. "I'm done suggestin', darlin'. From now on, it's my way or no way at all."

The broad expanse of his chest pressed against you, pinning you to the cot as his hand slid up to tangle almost painfully in your hair. You were utterly surrounded by the woody, earthy scent of him, making your head spin deliriously.

"Pretty soon, that cute lil' belly is gonna be all nice and round," Soshiro murmured, voice gone low and molten with the filthy promise laced through each word. "Then you won't be allowed anywhere near the battlefield - not while you're carryin' my baby inside you."

The way your eyes blew wide, teeth worrying that plush lower lip sent a possessive surge of heat lancing through him. Soshiro chuckled darkly, relishing your innocence for just a moment more before shattering it entirely.

"Ain't no other way to guarantee your safety besides stuffin' that tight pussy full of my hot seed, darlin'..." With an animalistic growl, he slanted his mouth over yours in a demanding, claiming kiss.

His calloused palm roamed boldly down the dip of your waist, over the flare of your hip until finally cupping your thigh and hitching your leg up to bracket his hips at the most intimate angle.

You gasped against the searing onslaught of his questing tongue, offering the perfect opportunity for Soshiro to truly plunder the warm haven of your mouth as he rolled his hips meaningfully against you. His engorged length dragged tortuously against your clothed cunt, sending delicious jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"See, now?" he murmured breathlessly against your bruised lips. "Your lil' body is already beggin' me to fill you up, darlin'...and I ain't a man who can deny a lady her desires."

With a wicked chuckle, Soshiro's large hands tugged at your infirmary gown, practically ripping the garment apart and baring you completely to his ravenous gaze. Your protests melted away at the heat in his expression, the sheer, undeniable hunger for you that blazed from his blackened pupils.

"You're a goddamned vision, you know that?" Soshiro growled, gaze drinking in every inch of newly exposed flesh. He licked his lips as he palmed the full curve of your breasts, relishing the breathy mewls spilling from your lips at the contact.

"I can't wait to see these all nice and heavy, filled up with milk just for me..." He leaned down, capturing one peaked nipple between his lips and suckling deeply, reveling in the sweet gasps falling from your lips.

"Ahh...s-stop, we can't..." Your fingers tangled in his hair, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, deeper. Soshiro chuckled darkly, tongue swirling a tantalizing pattern around your areola before releasing the pebbled bud with a lewd pop.

"You can't deny it, darlin'..." His fingers trailed possessively over your hip, dipping down between your thighs to tease your slick folds. "Not when your body's already beggin' me to breed this sweet pussy full, nice and proper."

Before you could form a coherent response, Soshiro's thick digits plunged into your soaked cunt, a throaty moan tumbling past his lips at how perfectly you swallowed his fingers.

"Hah...damn, darlin'...you're so wet and tight around my fingers already," he rasped out, pumping and curling the digits at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to drive you wild. "Bet you'll feel even better when I'm stuffin' my fat cock inside ya."

"Mmmh...V-Vice captain..." Your head lolled back, lost in the sensation of his skilled fingers filling and stretching your needy pussy. Soshiro's thumb began working your clit in teasing circles, bringing you dangerously close to the edge as he nipped and kissed his way down the column of your throat.

"Don't tell me you've already forgotten my name, darlin'," he groaned lowly, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the heated juncture where your neck met shoulder. "Not after I've worked so hard to keep you alive this long."

Your brows furrowed at his words, but before you could fully grasp the meaning, his fingers hooked up into your sweet spot, wrenching a keening moan from your lips. Soshiro drank in your blissed-out expression, the way your cheeks flushed so pretty, how your swollen, spit-slick lips parted on each desperate gasp and cry.

"Fuck, I can't wait another second..." he muttered, fingers slipping free of your clenching heat. You barely had time to protest the loss before Soshiro's calloused palms grasped your hips, easily maneuvering you onto your stomach.

A surprised squeak spilled from your lips, but before you could voice any objections, Soshiro's warm breath was fanning across your shoulder, a strong hand grabbing you by the back of your neck and forcing you down against the pillow.

"Keep that ass nice and raised for me, darlin'," he coaxed darkly, fingers teasing the soft globes of your rear, dipping into the slick pooling between your thighs. "Gotta make sure I get as deep as possible to really knock you up, after all."

"Wait, please..." you whimpered, trying and failing to twist around and catch a glimpse of him. The head of Soshiro's throbbing cock nudged at your dripping folds, the blunt pressure making you mewl. "I-It's my first time, Soshiro...please be gentle!"

A pleased rumble reverberated through him, hearing his name spill so sweetly from your lips. His hand drifted from the back of your neck, trailing tenderly along the elegant curve of your spine.

"Ain't that just adorable, darlin'," Soshiro murmured, voice gone unbearably fond. "You think I could be rough with somethin' this sweet and precious?"

Without warning, his grip tightened on your hip, jerking you back against him in one smooth thrust. You cried out at the sudden invasion, his thick cock bottoming out in your needy pussy with a filthy squelch.

"Hah...shit, yer even tighter than I imagined," he hissed, the overwhelming heat of your velvety cunt nearly bringing him to his knees. He had to force himself to hold still, to give your trembling body time to adjust to his sizable girth.

"M-Move..." The hoarse plea slipped out before you could stop yourself, feeling so incredibly full, deliciously stretched by the man whose presence both frustrated and intrigued you.

"So damned bossy," Soshiro muttered, but a smirk tugged at his lips nonetheless. His grip shifted from your neck to tangle in your hair, forcing your spine into a delicious arch as he drew his hips back before snapping them forward again.

"Ahh! S-Soshiro, that's—!" Your words dissolved into a litany of whimpers and moans as he began pounding into your quivering cunt, setting a brutal, punishing pace that had the cot beneath you creaking ominously.

"Oh, so this is what it takes to shut you up?" he growled lowly, leaning forward until his sculpted torso pressed flush against your arched back. His other arm wrapped around you, fingers splayed over your stomach to feel the impact of his thrusts as his cock bottomed out inside you.

"God, darlin', look at how well you're taking me," Soshiro crooned in your ear, pressing a heated kiss to the tender spot just behind it. "Your cute little pussy is squeezin' me so nice and tight, practically beggin' for my hot cum."

The filthy words spilled past his lips without a second thought, too focused on chasing the tight heat of your cunt. His pace only increased, the wet slap of skin against skin and your mewls of ecstasy echoing through the room.

"Fuck, you're perfect, you know that?" His grip in your hair relaxed, allowing him to cup your jaw and force you into a breathless, passionate kiss. The taste of him, the sheer dominance of his embrace had you melting, cunt clenching tightly around his pulsing length.

"Mmph...y-you can't, not inside...!" Your protest was weak, half-hearted at best, drowned out by the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you. Soshiro's tongue traced the seam of your lips, the heady scent of him flooding your senses.

"Oh, I'm definitely cummin' inside," he rasped out, a dark, animalistic glint in his eyes as he broke the kiss, his hips pistoning at a frenetic pace. "Gonna stuff that sweet pussy full and then some, 'til it's dripping with my seed, and you'll be carryin' my baby inside ya."

"Ngh, ahh! Soshiro, I-I'm—!" Your body shuddered against him, a scream of his name tearing from your lips as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in bliss. Soshiro's hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your cries as he rutted his hips forward once, twice more before burying his cock to the hilt and unleashing his release with a strangled roar.

Hot ropes of cum splattered your inner walls, his hips bucking reflexively with each spurt as he emptied his balls. Soshiro's chest heaved with exertion, the haze of lust slowly dissipating as he drank in the sight of you pinned beneath him, his seed spilling out from around his cock, trickling down the curve of your ass and coating your thighs.

"My babygirl, my good little warrior," he murmured, brushing a kiss over the back of your neck before reluctantly withdrawing his softening cock. You whimpered at the loss, body collapsing in a boneless heap, too spent to resist as Soshiro carefully flipped you onto your back and settled between your legs again.

"Look at you, darlin'," he purred, calloused fingertips ghosting up the inside of your thigh and gathering the mixture of fluids seeping out of your thoroughly claimed cunt. Soshiro's gaze darkened as he spread your thighs wide, watching his cum leak from your fluttering hole, staining the sheets beneath you.

"Hah, fuck...that's a beautiful sight, right there." He gathered up the mess, pressing two thick digits back into your cunt, the wet squelch nearly obscene in the quiet room. Soshiro's dark gaze bore into yours, smoldering with possessiveness as he leaned over your prone form, lips grazing your ear. "But this ain't enough, not even close. Gotta make sure I get my good girl nice and pregnant..."

You moaned, the sound muffled as his lips slanted over yours in a searing, demanding kiss, tongue plundering the depths of your mouth while his fingers pumped steadily. Soshiro's palm ground against your hypersensitive clit, drawing a sharp cry from you as he continued the ruthless, steady assault on your spent cunt.

"Mmph, Soshiro, please...!" you whimpered, hands scrabbling uselessly at his muscled back as he curled his fingers and pressed them relentlessly against your sweet spot. Your body jerked, cunt clenching around his thick digits in a desperate attempt to stave off the overstimulation.

"I know, darlin'," he murmured huskily, nipping along the column of your throat. "Just one more, then I'll let you rest, alright?"

The sensations were so overwhelming, his fingers buried knuckle-deep in your cum-slicked pussy, his warm lips and tongue trailing fire across your sensitive skin. Your toes curled, body writhing beneath his insistent ministrations, every muscle tensing, a scream caught in your throat...

"That's it, come for me, babygirl..."

His teeth sunk into the delicate juncture of your neck and shoulder, sending a bolt of white-hot pleasure surging through you. The tension within you finally snapped, a wave of bliss crashing over you as you squirted helplessly around his fingers, drenching the sheets with a fresh flood of your combined release.

Your chest heaved with exertion, unable to even muster a noise of complaint as Soshiro withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and gaping, his seed slowly trickling from your puffy lips. But you didn't have the energy to fight him as he slowly began to slip his cock back into your oversensitive cunt, murmuring praises against the shell of your ear.

"Shhh, I know, darlin'...such a good girl, makin' me proud." A strangled groan spilled past his lips as he bottomed out inside you, the delicious squeeze of your pussy nearly driving him to the edge. But Soshiro forced himself to keep still, letting your quivering walls adjust to his length before beginning a slow, gentle rhythm.

"Gotta make sure I get a few loads nice and deep," he grunted, relishing the way your walls gripped him like a vise. "Get you nice and pregnant so I won't have to worry about my pretty girl anymore..."

[arminsumi]

hellooo to you, i’d like a suguru pls, post premature death suguru meeting a ‘monkey’ that he falls in love with, hence he have another reflection.. maybe jujutsu sorcerers’ job is indeed to protect them..

CHANGE OF HEART.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: idk how 3.4k words happened 🤷‍♀️ i just got rlly into this idea ty for your requesttt!! and i'm so sorry if u didn't want smut but the scene kinda just happened 😭 it's pretty vanilla tho i think?? i put a little forewarning before the scene just in case u strictly don't want to read it

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Meeting you challenges the beliefs he thought he was so sure of. Unexpectedly falling in love with a 'monkey' causes Geto Suguru to have a change of heart.

WARNINGS — not proofread 😵‍💫 angst, 1 smut scene, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

SMUT WARNINGS — solo scene in the shower, Geto fantasizing about you (bj, creampies)

WORDCOUNT ≈ 3.4k

PLAY ME ♪ black beauty

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

A question that springs to Geto Suguru’s mind when he meets you is where have you been all my life? Because if he would have met you sooner, his beliefs wouldn’t have solidified.

You’re talking animatedly about your passions over a steaming beverage, sitting opposite this dark-haired man. His features are brooding and he’s rather unapproachable, or so he thinks – but you find gentleness and calmness in his face; the way his brows have a subtle, sad arch to them, the way the sharpness of his eyes contrasts beautifully to the softness of his cheeks. He’s always loathed his beady eyes and babyish cheeks, so it’s a pleasant shock to hear you flippantly compliment them.

“Why did you come to sit with me?” he asks curiously, fingertip caressing the rim of the ceramic coffee cup.

You think for a second, then speak your mind, “You looked approachable.”

Such an unexpected response. He’s intrigued. How could you possibly think he is approachable? He’s sure that if you’d known what he’s done, you’d never say that – you’d never sit for coffee with him at this cafe.

“Am I?” he tilts his head at you in response, “That’s a first. Lots of people in my life have told me that I’m unapproachable. And they avoid me.”

“How could anyone avoid you! You’re very – well, sorry if this sounds too forward – but you’re very alluring.”

Suguru arches his brow. Another unexpected response. You’re captivating him the more you speak.

“Thank you.” He responds earnestly, cool soft voice wafting through your chest, “Though that is quite forward.”

He wonders if his subtle teasing tone gets through to you. Your coy smile tells him that it did. He seems very captivated now, his abyssal black eyes are absorbing your features like they’re an artful masterpiece, like an Edo period piece of work that one can’t stop looking at admiringly.

Just when he feels his intrigue and curiosity for you reach its peak, he recoils; he completely shells himself, as if he was ashamed to have let himself become to enraptured by one of them.

There’s a long silence, you don’t notice that his opinion of you has shifted, you don’t even notice the slight scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. Because he masks it well.

“I have to be somewhere.” He excuses vaguely – it’s not uncommon to hear that from someone, so you don’t think much of it.

When talking with you for the past two hours, he seemed so appreciative that you sat with him and held good conversation, so you expected someone as direct as him to voice his thanks. A small thanks for having coffee with me, or a flippant thanks for sitting with me – nothing of the sort comes out of his mouth as he stands to leave.

You notice he only drank a sip of his black coffee this whole time. He must have been very captivated indeed, to not even enjoy his beverage.

It would have been easier to keep thoughts of you at bay had you not said goodbye to him as he left. Hearing your voice chime in his ear casts a spell over his mind.

He walks with his hands sunk deep in his pockets and heads to the subway station. Hesitant footsteps slow at the street where he said his last goodbye to his best friend just a few days ago. For a fleeting moment, Suguru is grateful for the resurgence of that tragic memory, because at least it drove you out of his mind.

But it is indeed just a fleeting moment, because once he descends into the subway station, his mind is refilled with thoughts of you. Your hair color. Your skin color. Your eye color. The clothes you wore. The scent lingering on them. The way you talked. How you spoke to him kindlier than anyone from the world outside Jujutsu High ever has. All he’s known before you is coldness and apprehensiveness.

He wonders, as he boards the train, if you would behave differently knowing that he’s a sorcerer. Knowing that he sees things as morbid as curses with his bare eyes. Knowing that he’s laid waste to a village of people. Knowing that he’s one of the strongest people in the world, and probably the strongest you’ll ever meet in your lifetime – unless you happen to come across Gojo Satoru someday.

He could kill you with a flick of his wrist if he wanted to.

As the train doors shudder shut behind him and he holds onto the dangling handles, he mutters a small “damn it…” under his breath. Because behind those eyes are waning beliefs, ones he was so sure about before you came along.

Suguru’s still thinking about you when he boards off the train and returns home to his apartment at nightfall. The rustling of the key in the door stirs the attention of his two little girls, and once it swings open, they burst with excitement at his arrival.

“We missed you!” they say almost in perfect harmony together.

“Missed you too, angels. Let’s get dinner cooking, hm? Mimiko, why do you have paint all over your cheeks? Ah – Nanako, no more painting for you. Yes, I’m making the rules. Treat your sister nicely and you can paint again.”

Suguru’s mind is temporarily cleared of you – but only temporarily, while he’s scrambling for ingredients around the tiny kitchen and patiently listening to childish chitchat. “No jumping in the kitchen – here, I’ll put you on the countertop – and uppp you go – stay there – Nanako, please don’t eat raw butter, it’s not funny. Give it here. Will you help me please?”

Soon there’s a simmering pot of food on the kotatsu table. There’s a storm coming, the girls cling to Suguru’s legs when he’s doing the dishes. “It’s just a thunderstorm coming, nothing to be afraid of, okay? Yes, I’ll read you to sleep. Nanako, please don’t bite my leg, it’s not funny – Mimiko don’t imitate your sister. Ah you two…”

He has the voice of a stressed-out father.

Droplets of soapy water drip off plates in the drying rack. Thunder rumbles outside the window. The wind swerving into the apartment’s living room feels cold when Suguru emerges from the girl’s bedroom – he heaves a sigh of relief knowing that they ate well and fell asleep soundly.

And it’s so cold in that apartment now.

She would be the warmth in the room.

It’s quiet, too.

Her voice would carry through this hallway like a serenade.

Suguru creeps into the shower, tripping on something the kids left laying around on his way to the bathroom.

⚠️ smut scene in case u want to skip

The drone of shower water fills his ears, he slowly peels off his sweater, giving a glance at the reflection of his physique in the body-length mirror. He’s never looked at his body with so much thought before.

Would she caress my chest like this?

One foot enters the shower, another followers. The door shuts and the glass steams up.

Does her mouth feel as soft as the words that come out of it?

He lets out a low groan. Rivulets of water run down his body.

She’d feel better than my hand. She’d take care of me.

Suguru’s hands trace up his chest and neck, his mind imagining it as your hand – he’s mimicking his imagination, picturing how sensual and gentle your touch would be. Your fingers wouldn’t be calloused like his, they’re small.

He lets himself get completely lost in a fantasy of you and him standing together under the showerhead, bodies close and heating up together. Without realizing, he’s lathering up his body with soap with slow, sensual movements. His hand grazes over his cock, it’s standing up and jumping a little at the thought of your face. Before he knows it, he’s slowly pumping his cock and tilting his head off to the side in pleasure.

Pretty sultry eyes flutter shut and his tip twitches. He squeezes and releases, imagining how you’d tease around. Or maybe you were inexperienced – now that thought gets him excited, it leads his fantasy into another direction. If he could have one night with you, he’d show you exactly what he likes and how he wants you to pleasure him. Maybe one night would turn into multiple nights, or entire weekends spent with him.

He lets out a shaky breath and presses on palm flat against the shower’s tile wall, bowing his head, lips parted with gentle, breathy moans escaping them – but both the sounds of the rainstorm and the shower drown them out.

A murky idea of what you look like naked and wet in the shower is hot on his mind. He rolls his thumb over the tip of his cock, leaving a small trail of soapy bubbles. His shaft’s gotten all lathered up, the sound of squelching barely reaching his ears. It makes him think of how you’d sound when he’s pumping his cock inside of you.

Would you be able to take it all? He looks down at it and contemplates that. How tight would you be? Would he cum boyishly soon if he sunk inside your gummy walls? If he went faster like this, would you become a mess underneath him? Would you want him to cum inside?

He’s a simple man when he’s so close to orgasming right there in his shower, the image of you taking his creampie makes him orgasm.

There’s a gentle rumble of thunder that covers up a loud moan that escapes his throat. He’s never moaned like that before. And he’s never cum so hard before, either – usually it’s a few watery shots of cum, not thick white ropes like this.

Does he feel guilty when cleaning his cum up the shower wall? A little bit.

“Damn it…” he mutters disappointedly.

⚠️ smut scene over

When he wraps a towel around his waist and looks into the mirror at his long hair, he wonders how you ever thought he looked approachable. If anything, he looked intimidating and cold.

That long shower fantasy of you only temporarily sates his mind. Letting his body fall into his bed with a soft thump, he sinks into the mattress. He rolled onto his side and started thinking of you again. This time, he replays everything that happened in those two hours at the café. He replays parts of the conversation like it was his favorite movie, until he fell asleep.

“You’re very alluring.” He thought of those words you said to him.

A subtle smile tugged at his lips.

***

Days pass. Suguru purposefully strides past the café and takes a glimpse into the windows to check if you’re there. When you’re not, he frowns and keeps walking. When you are, his eyes light up ever so slightly and his feet seem to carry him over to you – even though his mind screams at him to stop. This is madness. You’re supposed to be the very thing he hates, but he can’t bring himself to.

Because you’re dreamy. Or at least that’s the effect you have on him.

Each time he sees you at the café, he realizes more and more how weak and clumsy you are. Slowly, those traits become endearing to him. It irks him to feel this growing compulsion to protect you.

The tide of his mind completely turns over when he walks you home one day. A little curse had been clinging to your arm, cruelly giggling with its morbid little face.

How dare you? He eyes it out and watches you obliviously massage your arm, trying to alleviate the tension.

Suguru could have made two possible decisions; exorcise it or leave it. In other words, turn back on his beliefs or recede back into them completely, never to reemerge.

You massage your arm again, and at the moment you turn away from your apartment’s door, Suguru engulfs you in a very random, very soft hug. Widening your eyes, you’re unsure how to reciprocate for a moment. You hear him swallow.

Oh, is he nervous to be hugging me? Does he have a boyish crush on me? That’s unexpected of a mature man like him.

That’s what you’re obliviously thinking.

Suguru stifles a sigh. Part of him wishes you never hugged him back. But he can’t deny the rush he feels through his veins. Your warm, embrace is something he never knew he needed so badly until he got it.

That moment sets him on fire, he feels electric when he walks back home.

“Damn it…” he mutters with a small smirk playing at his lips – one that’s very similar to how he used to smirk with Satoru.

***

Months pass, and you start regularly visiting each other’s apartments. Tokyo is cramped, the word spacious never crosses your mind when you walk into someone else’s home. But Suguru’s apartment felt smaller than the others, because he had two balls of energy running around like chaotic demons. Lovably chaotic demons. Two twin girls, they’re celebrating their fifth birthday and you’re in the kitchen with Suguru baking a cake for them. It was your idea. And though you had to practically drag Suguru by the arm to get him to bake a cake, he was very willing to help out.

Nanako keeps trying to spook you, and you pretend to die of a heart attack – it makes her giggle. Mimiko pretends to be a spider crawling up your back, you also pretend to be scared – and she responds with a cheeky “I’m not actually a spider, I fooled you!”

“Girls, please give Y/n and I some alone time.” Suguru tells them after they become a bit much. Adults can only deal with so much, some relaxation is eagerly sought after.

“Is Y/n gonna be our mommy?” Nanako asks before leaving the kitchen. Her and Mimiko both look at you two expectantly.

Suguru is completely caught off guard by this question, but you laugh.

“Let us be, Nanako.” He speaks without composure, so shaken up and embarrassed. When was the last time he blushed to boyishly?

The twins scamper out the kitchen and into their own little kid’s world, roaming the house as if it was full of secrets they had to discover.

“Sorry, they’re quite outspoken for their ages.” Suguru refuses to look at you anymore, his heart is thumping in his chest. What if you wanted to be their mom? It’s a cute thought that occupies his mind as he talks to you.

“They’re the sweetest.” You sigh adoringly, “Really, the sweetest. It reminds me, had a friend once who ran a kindergarten, and I stood in for her one spring while she was on sick leave. There was this very sweet little boy who followed me around like a puppy. Working there for a little while made me realize how much I want to have kids and a family.” You talk while mixing ingredients into a bowl, stirring up the batter until it’s creamy and smooth.

Suguru’s listening attentively. He’s watching your gentle movements interestedly. Were you gentler in his presence? He wonders what you’re like when you’re annoyed. When you wake up, how cute is your bleary-eyed face?

“You’re good with kids.” Suguru compliments.

“Thank you.” You smile a bit bashfully. “Though, now that I think about it, there was also this kid at that kindergarten that would try to bite me all the time. An absolute menace.”

Suguru lets out a laughing breath through his nose.

“Yeah, Nanako has tried to bite Mimiko many times. The first time it happened, she screamed herself blue and I had absolutely no idea what to do.” Suguru spoke, “By the way, d’you need help – ? M’kay, if you say so. I’m right here. Anyways… she bit her so hard it left a bite mark.”

“Oh yeah, I know what you’re talking about, alright. That sucker left a bite mark on my thigh – I’ve still got the scar.” You tell him.

Suguru’s mind lights up when you so flippantly mention your thigh. He can’t help himself. He’s starting to want more, his whole body craves proximity – that’s why, while you put the cake in the oven, he discretely inches closer to where you stand. Arms crossed over his broad chest, hair up in a neat bun – he only realized just then how you have such a positive effect on him. He hadn’t put such deep care into his appearance since before…

“Suguru? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah. Just thinking.”

“You must have a lot to be thinking about. Your face looks so severe… I want to knead out the severity.” You tease.

He loves the way you speak. He loves the subtle playful teasing you do every now and then, it shows him that you’re getting comfortable around him like he is around you.

“Sorry. I’m just a brooding type.” He smirks at you, shifting his body so that he leans comfortably against the counter.

“What are you brooding on?” you ask him curiously.

It makes his heart lurch that you care, that you’re genuinely curious about what’s going on behind those abyssal black eyes of his.

“I don’t want to bring down the mood.”

“You won’t bring down the mood. What’s on your mind? I’m not the best at advice… in fact I’m shit, but I’m a good listener… so indulge me.” You encourage him, attempting to hop up on the kitchen countertop to sit comfortably.

His heart feels stabbed and twisted all of a sudden. But he smirks, sees you struggling to climb a countertop, and comes to help you. Big hands grab at the back of your thighs as he leans down, cheek brushing with your cheek for a moment, before he hoists you up himself.

“Thank you.” You smile at him, veiling your nervousness.

His body feels hotter after he pulls away. But he acts coolly, resuming his nonchalant pose of leaning against the countertop with crossed arms.

“I fell out with an old friend.” He begins simply. It’s laughable, saying that out loud – you have no idea of the severity, of the drama. “We were like yin and yang.” He desperately tries to add a layer of depth to give you a better picture.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” you inquire.

Suguru thinks back on that day. “Yeah. We had a disagreement. And… I think… I’ve finally started to regret walking away from him.” He admits.

That admittance unexpectedly makes his throat constrict and his eyes line with tears. He blinks them away quickly.

“Why did you walk away?” you tilt your head.

I wonder what she’d think if I told her every detail.

“We have differing beliefs about… something. I can’t describe it sensibly to you.”

You look at him interestedly. “Beliefs? Like about religion?”

“I guess kind of like that…? Not religion, but something as serious as that.”

“If you regret walking away from him,” you begin, speaking your train of thought, “why don’t you come back to him and tell him that? Or would that be a bad idea? I don’t know… it just seems like you miss whoever this person is.”

You render him speechless and he looks at you like you just unravelled a secret part of him that no one had seen before.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that. I think I’ll… uh, give him a call sometime and see him for coffee.” Suguru says decidedly.

Was he really going to do that? Before meeting you, he couldn’t fathom facing Satoru again. It was a mortifying idea. He crushed his best friend’s spirit, how could he face him again?

“Sounds good… you could meet him at the café we go to.” You say.

Suguru’s half lost in thought and staring at the kitchen floor tiles. “Yeah… hey, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Absolutely.”

He chokes up a bit, darting his eyes around, as if searching carefully for his words. When he looks at you, he completely forgets what he was going to ask. His heart is beating like he was just about to confess to his high school sweetheart.

Suguru takes a deep inhale.

“I think the cake is burning.”

“Oh shit!”

***

Satoru scoffs bitterly over his beverage.

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

A pair of striking blue eyes meet abyssal black ones.

“What changed your mind...?” Satoru comments in a softer tone after hearing his old friend call his name so tenderly.

“Something good happened.” Suguru subtly smiles, the memory of meeting you in this same café flashing across his mind.

A silence comes over them, and slowly the tension works out of their air, an understanding replacing it.

“Maybe we are supposed to protect them, after all… damn monkeys, look at ‘em so helpless.” Suguru chuckles, half-joking as he watches a baby start to cry in its mothers arms on the street outside.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Heyo!!!!✨️✨️✨️

You write Hero x Villain so well and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a Hero that was kidnapped by the Villain, and Hero is expecting harsh treatment, but they instead wake up in a lavish bedroom, restrained to the bed of course but it's a very nice bed. It turns out Hero had been overworking themselves and Villain was worried about them and had had enough. Maybe Hero tries to argue that they haven't been overworking and Villain goes ballistic.

It was a joke.

It had to be.

The hero looked at the handcuffs (which were their own) and then back at the villain.

"You're kidding." The hero was seldom in the mood for jokes. Most of the time, they didn't understand the references their friends made or ended up explaining jokes which people - apparently - did not like. It was quite hard for them to find anything funny. A cat was funny. A sound could be funny.

But a practical joke? Not so much.

"Honestly, I wish I was. Do you know how heavy you are? I would have never dragged you up here for a joke," the villain said. They were sitting on a luxuriant chair across the room, one thigh on the other. Their foot was dangling in the air happily and they looked well rested as they drank from a coffee cup.

"What time is it?"

"It's ten in the morning." The hero smiled to themselves. "On a Monday."

"What? No. Shit. Shit. Fuck-" The hero was already late to work. They were always 30 minutes early. They couldn't be late. They started struggling against the restraints, tossed and turned, tried to pull and free themselves. But it didn't work, no matter how much forced they conjured.

In the end, their wrists were sore, nothing more.

"Relax," the villain purred. "For some strange reason - which I am not associated with - your workplace has been shut down. Water damage."

"What did you-?"

"Purely coincidental," the villain lied. They shrugged and finished their coffee, setting the cup down on the tiny table next to them. They stood up and once they were in front of the villain, they leaned over them. "You look very good in my bed, by the way."

"Am I your hostage? Is that it?" the hero asked.

"Hostage? My god, do you know how much planning and energy that requires? Too much work, really." The villain tapped the tip of the hero's nose with their index finger. "My love, do you remember when I broke your leg a while ago?"

"Still hurts like shit when I work out."

"Hm." The villain almost looked like they were sorry. "Well...that was a rather harsh method, I have to admit. But a very effective one. Until you started working again, harder this time. I didn't see that coming."

The hero stared at the villain. Initially, they had thought the villain would understand what it was like to sacrifice themselves for their beliefs. The hero was, in many forms, very dedicated to both their jobs. The one in the office and the one outside of it as a hero. No task was too much, no overtime was too long.

Of course, the hero heard the whispers about themselves, they heard how their family made fun of them for working long hours and how they judged them for never finding time to meet up. After a while, the hero had stopped getting into arguments with their parents. You wanted me to have a steady job or my work is important to me were not good enough explanations for them. So, the hero had given up on that.

But they had genuinely thought the villain would know what that felt like. To be invested, to be motivated.

"Is being determined such a crime?"

"Determination and obsession are two different things, my love," the villain said.

"What do you care anyway?" the hero hissed. They were sick of people getting into their business and telling them how to live their life. It was more than exhausting.

The villain was quiet. They studied the hero's face and eventually sat down on the edge of the bed. Their lower back was touching the hero's side.

The hero did not pull away.

"Your hand has been shaking for two weeks now," the villain said. "Do you think I am willing to fight a weak enemy? That is below me. My equal is supposed to match me in combat. Not only attractiveness."

The hero didn't say anything to that right away. They knew they had had...struggled with fighting these past few weeks. But they had not wanted it to be due to their work. It was clearly a coincidence. Some harmless infection or illness.

"Listen...I am fine. I have a good job and I have a duty to fulfill."

"When you go home after work, do you feel like you have accomplished anything?" the villain asked and the hero, despite how sure they were of themselves and their work ethic, knew that the villain was digging into a wound with dirty fingers here.

Because, no, the hero did not feel satisfied, they barely felt relieved.

"Do you feel happy?" The villain's eyes were boring into the hero's. Curious, brilliant eyes.

The villain was quite provocative but this was right out a punch to the gut.

"You are asking unfair questions."

"You don't like them because the answer hurts. You are miserable. What you are doing right now is devouring you. And once that is done, what am I left with? Another one of those broken heroes who dies in their twenties because it's all too much?"

The hero looked at them, tears burning in their eyes. It was their job. It was their chance to prove themselves.

The hero was worth something. They were useful, they were smart. They were good at work. What would be left for them if that was being taken away?

What was the hero without it, anyway?

"Right now," they said, "I dislike you very much."

"Our relationship goes beyond simple fights," the villain explained. They let their fingertips dance over the hero's throat, even let their hand cup it carefully. Goosebumps spread all over the hero's back. The villain could have choked them anytime. But they didn't. "It's a vicious cycle. You and I. We cannot escape. And that is your duty. That is your priority. The objective which demands all your attention. Stopping me is a lot of work and you need to focus on that. If I get too powerful, you know what happens. I want power. I want power over you, over the city."

"So instead of working the usual way, you want me to work because of you?" The hero was quick to blink the tears out of their eyes.

This was simply ludicrous. The villain was wrong. They were lying, manipulating.

"No. I want your attention, I want your dedication. The healthy amount." The villain leaned over them, their lips brushing the hero's ear. "I can be nastier if I want. Right now I could break any bones of yours to force you to rest."

Their fingers glided up the hero's forearm until they found the hero's hand. The villain took it.

"But I saw how much pain that caused. And how disappointing the results were. So. Last chance, my love. Tune it down. Or all of us will suffer."

They pressed a kiss to the hero's temple.

However, the villain had to kidnap the hero three more times until the hero decided to start taking care of themselves.

[krirebr]

More Than This 3

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~5.8k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, multiple references to vomit (but nothing graphic, I don't think), attempted sex that makes everyone sad - dubcon on both sides, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Alright friends, here we go! Now we're really in it.

A gigantic thank you, as always, to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and talking it all through with me, especially the last section, which I've been anxious about since I originally conceived of it ages ago. You're the best, Chelsea!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You heard Ransom get up in the early hours of the morning and stumble into the bathroom to retch. You were glad he didn’t choke on his vomit, you guessed. You were still on the couch with the TV turned down low. You wondered if he’d come out and see what you were doing, but he just stumbled back to the bed when he was done. 

You didn’t hear him again for several more hours. In that time, you mostly watched TV, dozed a little, fucked around on your phone. Time passed slowly, but it still passed. Soon, the sun was coming up. You were moving across the country today. Your new life was starting whether you wanted it or not.

A few hours later you heard the beginnings of movement in the bedroom. You called down to room service and ordered two carafes of coffee, along with a few different breakfast options, ranging from light to extremely greasy. You didn’t know what his hangovers were like, what they required. But you knew that an especially moody Ransom wouldn’t do you any good. So, a peace offering of a sort. 

The food arrived before he’d shown his face. As you looked at the cart, you thought that while you were trying to start things as well as you could for your own good, it didn’t erase everything he’d done the day before, how he’d treated you. So you made no effort to be quiet as you laid out the food and got the coffee ready. You may have banged the metal covers together as noisily as you could. 

“What the fuck?” Ransom grumbled as he came stumbling out of the bedroom in just his boxer briefs. “Why is there noise?”

“Coffee,” you said, handing him the mug you’d filled. “I didn’t know how you take it.”

He took a sip and just grunted at you and then turned around and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You busied yourself by getting your own coffee and munching on some toast. You still had no appetite but figured you should probably eat something. 

A few minutes later, he came back out with a now empty mug. He stopped and stared at you. “Am I still drunk or are you still wearing your wedding dress?”

You tried not to let your embarrassment show. “I couldn’t get it off by myself, so…” you trailed off and shrugged. 

He looked at you for another moment then nodded once. “Give me a minute,” he said, as he poured himself another cup. He drank it quickly, then briefly held his head in his hands. When he looked back up, he took a deep breath, then mumbled “OK.” He came up behind you and lightly touched your dress. “Is there a trick to it?” he asked as he ran a finger down the seam. 

“It’s a long line of hook-and-eyes, you know?”

He hummed and then started at the top. As he worked, he grumbled to himself, which made you feel a little better about not being able to get it off. You’d never stop being surprised by how gentle his hands were. It seemed to be in complete opposition to every other part of him. When he was about halfway down, his knuckles lightly grazed the bare skin of your back and a shudder ran through your whole body. “Sorry,” he said, softly. You just shook your head and didn’t say anything.

When he was done, he quickly took a step back. You held your dress to you, trying to preserve your modesty, even though you knew how silly that was. You just weren’t ready for him to see you, although you doubted that that mattered. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He nodded again, then “You mind if I take the first shower?”

You shook your head and he disappeared into the ensuite. 

About an hour and a half later, you sat with him in the back of a town car, on your way to the private airfield where one of his family’s planes awaited you. Neither of you said anything. Ransom was staring at something on his phone, while you put all your energy into trying not to have a panic attack. You had no idea what was waiting for you in Boston. You weren’t ready for this. You couldn’t do it.

As the car pulled up to the hangar, you were beyond relieved to see Steve already waiting there, Lola’s travel crate at his feet. The moment the car was parked and turned off, you lept out, not waiting for anyone to open the door for you. You bent down in front of Lola’s crate first and carefully stuck your fingers through the door. “Hi, baby, I missed you.” She kissed your fingers and then whined to be let out. “Not yet, honey,” you said softly. “You have to wait til we’re on the plane.”

You stood up and faced Steve, who was looking you over carefully. “How are you doing?” he asked seriously.

You shrugged and sighed. “Freaking out a little, I guess, but it’ll be fine.”

“And if it isn’t, you’ll call me,” he said, voice firm. “I don’t care where you are or what time it is, you call me. Ok?” You nodded. He opened his mouth to say more, but then the call of your name came from over your shoulder.

You turned to see Ransom standing between you and the jet. Your heart dropped. No, not yet. You needed more time. You needed to be able to actually say goodbye. You couldn’t– “I’ll be on the plane,” he said, voice still scratchy and tired, sunglasses firmly on, despite the overcast day. “Take your time.” He turned around and began walking up the stairs. 

You just stared after him for a moment, surprised. When you turned back to Steve, his lips were curled in disgust. But then the expression quickly changed to something much sadder. “I should have done more,” he said, “gotten you out of here, sent you away or something. I can’t–”

“Steve.” you interrupted. “Please stop. It’s no use now.” You couldn’t listen to any more of this. It had always been inevitable; it’d always been what you were for. Imagining anything else was useless. 

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then he looked around and asked, “Are Dad and Lydia on their way?” 

You tried to keep any hurt out of your expression when you said, “No, something important came up for Joseph and you know Mom has a hard time going anywhere by herself.” You ignored the cracks you heard in your own voice.

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion and upset. “I would have picked her up,” he said. “Hell, I’ll go get her right now.” 

“I know,” you said sadly. “I told her that, but you know how she is.” You dropped your eyes, not able to look at the anger you knew you’d see on Steve’s face. You were angry too, you were, but mostly now you were just sad. And after thinking about it all night, you honestly weren’t sure how much anger she deserved. She’d been broken for a long time. It’d happened before you’d even known her, probably. It’d been unfair, maybe, to expect her to be strong for you now when she’d never been able to be that before.

Steve said your name and you looked up at him. “You don’t deserve this,” he said firmly. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really need you to understand it. None of this is what you deserve.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded and muttered, “OK.” 

He sighed and shook his head, then pulled you into his arms. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much,” he said into your hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without having you just a few minutes away to annoy whenever I want.”

You huffed a laugh into his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too,” you said. “So much. Even when you’re being so annoying.” The tears were starting now, you weren’t able to hold them back. You pulled back and briefly got a good enough look at Steve’s face to see that his eyes were wet, too, before he knelt in front of Lola’s crate.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’m going to miss you too. You take good care of your mom for me.” 

You couldn’t help the little sob that came out of you at that. Fuck. Steve had been stuck to your side since you were six years old. Through absolutely everything. He’d been the one person you could count on for as long as you could remember. And now you were being dragged away from him. 

He stood up and pulled you into another hug. “You’re so strong,” he whispered right in your ear. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

When he pulled back, you knew it was time to go, but you didn’t know how to pull yourself away. This all felt so final.

“Let me know when you land,” he said. “And when you get to the house. And just–” he sighed. “Everything. I want to know everything, ok?”

You nodded and tried to brush the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, ok,” you said, knowing you’d send him the exact amount of information that would keep him from worrying too much. You picked up the dog crate. You locked eyes with him one last time. “I love you.”

His voice was thick when he responded, “I love you too. I’m going to sit right here until you’ve taken off, ok? I’ll be right here.”

“You’re a good brother,” you said, as you slowly took your first step backward, toward the jet. 

“Yes. I am,” he said with a smile that was half cocky and half absolutely heartbreaking. 

With one last deep breath and an “OK,” that was mostly to yourself, you forced yourself to turn around and make your way to the stairs up to the jet. Once you were halfway up, you looked over your shoulder. Steve was leaning against his car. He gave you an encouraging smile and a small wave. You nodded and took the last few steps to board the plane.

A flight attendant was standing right there to greet you. “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Drysdale,” she said and you couldn’t help the way your mouth dropped open in shock. Mrs. Drysdale. That’s who you were now. You tried to pull yourself together and let her show you into the main cabin. It was mostly open, with a few plush seats and tables scattered around. Ransom was already in one, fully reclined with a sleep mask pulled over his eyes. He made no indication that he was awake, so you asked the attendant for a mask for yourself and a glass of water. As she went to fulfill your request, you opened Lola’s little cage and picked her up when she came out. She was nervous, shaking with her little tail tucked between her legs. “It’ll be ok,” you said softly, the tears threatening to stream down again. You took a deep breath and settled the both of you into a seat as far from Ransom as you could get in the small private jet. You gave Lola gentle pets until she sat down on your lap. “We’ll just take a nap,” you said, “and it’ll be over before we know it.”

“What the fuck is that?”

You woke with a start and pulled off your sleep mask. “Huh?” You sat up to see Ransom and Lola locked in a staredown. 

“What is that?”

“I told you that I had a dog,” you said, confused. 

“That!” Ransom yelled, pointing at Lola, “is not a dog. That’s a long-haired rat!”

“Hey!” you yelled back, just as Lola started retching. “Oh, baby, no!” You knelt down next to her just as she puked right at Ransom’s feet.

“What the shit?!” he cried out, jumping back. 

“She’s stressed, ok? It’s not like I can explain to her what a plane is or where we’re going!” You grabbed what was left of your water and the napkin the flight attendant had brought with the glass and tried to clean it up. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself.

“What are you doing?” He stood over you with his hands on his hips.

“I’m cleaning it up so you don’t freak out, ok? It’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Get up.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to do that. The crew probably has a steam cleaner or something. My dad uses this plane. I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He walked to the front of the cabin and knocked on the divider. When the attendant came, Ransom quietly told her, “The dog got sick. I assume you have something to clean it up.” 

She nodded and quickly came out with a portable steam cleaner and made quick work of Lola’s mess. 

“Thank you,” you told her.

“No problem at all, Mrs. Drysdale,” she smiled and went back to the galley.

“Well, that’s a real mindfuck,” Ransom said as he flopped back into his seat. He glared down at Lola, “She gonna do that again?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently picking her up and holding her close to try to comfort her.

He pulled his sleep mask down over his eyes. “Great, love being a rat-dog owner.”

“She isn’t your dog,” you said curtly. 

“Whatever. This hangover is still pounding against my skull. Wake me when we land.” 

When you landed in Boston, Ransom led you to where his vintage beamer was parked and you both squeezed into it. The slightly hysterical thought struck you that it wouldn’t be suitable at all once there was a baby to cart around. You pushed that thought away. No use getting ahead of yourself.

Ransom’s house was on the edge of the city, surrounded by more trees than you expected. From the outside, it was mostly glass. Very modern. It felt cold.

He parked the car and grabbed the few bags you both had with you. The rest of your things would be delivered the next day. He showed you inside without much pomp or circumstance, just walked in ahead of you, and left the door open.

The majority of the first floor seemed to be one large, open-plan room. It was sparsely decorated and the pieces that were there seemed to be lifted wholesale from the pages of an upscale furniture catalog. There was nothing of Ransom in this house. Not that you really knew him well enough to say, but you didn’t think there was any information to be gleaned from his living space either. It all felt very empty. It was not what you had expected.

You set Lola down on the hardwood floor and she immediately ran off to explore. You crossed your fingers that she wouldn’t get into anything, not able to forget Ransom’s threat that he’d make you get rid of her if she messed anything up. You glanced over at Ransom to gauge if he was upset that you’d let her roam on her own, but he wasn’t paying any attention, leafing through a pile of mail left on the kitchen island. 

He must have felt you watching him, because without looking up he said, “Bedroom’s upstairs. I’ll bring our things up later.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. You grabbed your bag, not wanting to wait for him, and made your way up the staircase in the middle of the living room. Judging by how he’d treated you so far, you figured he planned to tuck you away in some guest room, out of his way except for when he needed you. It wasn’t unheard of in marriages like this, and you would honestly be grateful to have your own space. But as you looked through the rooms upstairs, you found a home gym, a study, and 2 storage rooms. There’d also been a bathroom and a few closets. The only room left had to be his, but you couldn’t imagine he’d want to share that with you. You very gingerly walked in and set your bag at the foot of the bed. You didn’t spend any more time there, afraid that you might be wrong.

When you went back downstairs, he was now rummaging through his fridge. “I put my bag in the bedroom upstairs,” you said to his back. 

He just grunted his assent, then came out with two glass containers in his hands. He plated them both and put one in the microwave. “I have a housekeeper that comes three times a week and usually prepares meals for the whole week. You can give her any food preferences you have.”

You nodded. “I enjoy cooking,” you said, your mother's advice to ‘keep him happy’ floating in your mind. “I can make dinner too, sometimes.”

He nodded and shrugged as he took the plate out of the microwave and placed it in front of you on the island. You took a seat on one of the stools. “If you want,” he said, “but I don’t expect it.” He put his own plate in the microwave.

“Do you have any other staff?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not for the house, not right now.”

You understood the implication that the staff would grow as your family did. A nanny, a driver, a gardener maybe, if you moved to a house that required one.

It was the lack of a driver that made you nervous. You’d never gone without one at home. You also hadn’t seen a large garage on the property, so you guessed there weren’t any extra cars around. You felt stuck in this house already, shut in like he didn’t want you to leave.

When his food was heated, he sat beside you and you ate together in silence. The food was fine, you were sure, but you couldn’t taste it. Your mind was ahead of you, wondering what the rest of the night held. 

When you were done, Ransom loaded your dishes into the dishwasher and then said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat, so I’m just going straight to bed. Feel free to stay up if you want. I’m a heavy sleeper so you won’t wake me when you come in.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your surprise. So he did intend for you to share his room. But apparently, just for sleeping. You were relieved. You were. The little voice in your head that wouldn’t stop whispering that he didn’t want you didn’t count. “I’m still three hours behind, so I might stay up a little longer.” Doing what, you had no idea. You didn’t have any of your things and you weren’t sure what was off-limits here yet. And you were exhausted, still hadn’t recovered from not sleeping the night before. But you just couldn’t deal with the awkwardness of going to bed at the same time as him.

“OK,” he said and then just stood there, looking surprisingly lost. After a couple of endless minutes, he just said, “Goodnight,” and finally went upstairs.

You grabbed your phone out of your handbag, unsurprised to see multiple messages from Steve, checking in on you. You sent him one back, assuring him that the flight had been fine, the drive to the house was fine, you were fine. You collected Lola from where she was curled up on a rug, quickly fed her and let her out, and then brought her and her crate upstairs. After a few minutes of internal debate, you decided to set her up in the gym, fairly certain that even in her crate, Ransom wouldn’t want her in his bedroom. It took a lot of coaxing to get her in. She was so used to sharing your bed. She whined when you closed the little grate and your heart broke. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “You’ll get used to it. It’ll be ok.”

You quietly went into the bedroom and Ransom was, indeed, already asleep, spread out on his stomach again, but luckily this time only taking up one side of the bed. He’d left the lamp on the opposite side on for you. You took your sleep clothes out of your bag and brought your toiletries into the ensuite, unpacking only what you’d need for the night. His things were all piled around one of the side-by-side sinks, but the other was clear for you. You went through your nightly routine quickly and then went back into the bedroom and very carefully climbed into bed. He didn’t stir. You turned off the lamp and settled at the edge of the bed. Your exhaustion took you quickly.

When you woke in the morning, Ransom was gone.

Your things were delivered a few hours after you woke. You started by trying to organize the boxes into the least obtrusive pile possible. You hoped that if they were tucked into a corner, he wouldn’t be too annoyed while you took your time going through them. You started with a few of the smaller boxes, unpacking the items into places you hoped they could go.

You took Lola for a walk around the neighborhood. It was sparsely populated, the houses spaced far apart. You didn’t run into any neighbors.

One of the walk-in closets in the bedroom had been cleared out for you, so you spent the afternoon unpacking all your clothes. By the time you were done, it was time for dinner. There was still no sign of Ransom.

You fed Lola and helped yourself to one of the meals in the fridge. You ate alone and after you cleaned up, you dug a book out of one of your boxes and settled on one of the not-very-comfortable couches with Lola to read. You didn’t know if she was allowed on the furniture – you were sure she wasn’t, actually – but Ransom wasn’t here to see it, so you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. 

As you were finishing the second chapter in your book, he walked through the front door. With how the house was set up, he had a clear view of you and Lola from the door. “Hi,” was all he said.

“Hi,” was all you could say back.

He just stood there for a moment and then took off his coat and shoes. “How was your day?” he asked, stiffly, as he came into the living room. 

“Fine,” you said. Then you realized he was actually attempting conversation and added, “My things came, so I got started unpacking.”

He nodded, “That’s good. Did you eat?”

“I did,” you said, hoping that was the right answer. “Can I get you some food?”

“No, I’m fine. I ate at the office.” Well, that answered where he’d been all day – his family’s publishing house.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to go upstairs to unwind. Will you be heading up soon?” 

Oh. Right. It’d finally come. “Yeah,” you said, your mouth suddenly dry. “I’ll just get Lola settled and then join you.”

He looked down at your dog in your lap like he was noticing her for the first time. But he didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked upstairs.

You let Lola out the back door for just a couple minutes, then took her upstairs. It was even harder to get her into her crate this time, even after you buried treats in her blankets. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cooed, once you finally had her locked in. “I promise it won’t always be this hard and scary. It’ll be ok.”

Ransom was waiting for you in his room, sitting in an armchair by the window. “We should talk,” he said quietly.

“Ok.” You perched on the edge of the bed and did your best to look him in the eye, even as your heart was racing. 

He took a deep breath and leaned forward. “We don’t–” he started, then another breath. “There’s nothing that we have to do tonight. I mean, we can certainly get the first time out of the way, if that’s what you want to do. But it doesn’t have to be now. We have time.”

You wanted to be relieved, but it just felt like delaying the inevitable. “We don’t, actually,” you said shaking your head. “We don’t have that much time. Especially if it takes a while. If there’s going to be an issue getting pregnant, on either side, I think the sooner we know the better. I don’t want to be blindsided by it when we only have a month left.”

“Ok,” he nodded. “That makes sense. Yeah, we can get it over with.”

You were proud of yourself for the way you didn’t wince at his phrasing, but it was a near thing. But was it really fair to be upset or hurt by that when it was how you were feeling too? You wanted to stop delaying it. You were ready to just know how it was going to be, what he would want. So yeah, maybe ‘get it over with’ wasn’t such a bad way to put it. 

He stood up and sighed, looking like he was bracing himself. “I do need to know, have you done this before?”

You swallowed. The question wasn’t unexpected but you weren’t sure how to answer it and didn’t know which answer he was looking for. You decided to be honest and hoped it would be ok. “Yes, I’ve had sex,” you said, quietly.

He let out a long exhale in relief. “Ok,” he said, “ok, that’s good.” 

You stood up, unsure of what to do. You just wanted to be on the other side of it. You suddenly thought of what you’d just told Lola. It wouldn’t always be this hard and scary. You would get used to it. You just had to get through this first time. And then you’d know how he was. Resolved now, you started taking off your shirt.

“Wait,” he said, breathed really. “Just wait.”

Your shirt was already halfway off, stuck on your arms above your head, so you shucked it the rest of the way and threw it on the floor, but didn’t do anything else.

He came over and stood so he was in your space. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb on your cheekbone. And very slowly, he ducked his head to bring his lips to yours. There was something about it. The intimacy. Even with what you knew you were about to do with him. You just– A kiss was too much. You turned away. You couldn’t do it.

Instead, your hands went to unbutton your pants. You undid it slowly then bent over with your back to him to push them down your legs, sticking your ass out as much as you could. That was better than a kiss, right? You could make him want you.

You kicked your pants off and stood back up, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you. But his face was unreadable. You weren’t ready for him to touch you, so you said, “I can get myself ready for you,” hoping it came off coy, but you were afraid he’d be able to hear how your voice shook. For the briefest moment, you almost thought you saw something travel across his face. Disappointment, maybe. But it was gone too fast for you to be able to tell, and you were trying so hard to look away, anyway.

You got on the bed, lying on your back, sliding your panties off as seductively as you could. You closed your eyes tight and slowly moved one hand down your abdomen while the other started to play with your breast, cupping it, tweaking your nipple. As your other hand slipped between your thighs, you brought up your go-to fantasy. Nothing fancy or outlandish. Just a man standing over you, touching you, telling you how much he loved you, how much he loved your body. How he was going to ruin you, completely take you apart. You tried to focus on that as your fingers slowly made their way between your folds, as they made their way to your clit. But this room kept pulling you back to reality. You could hear Ransom taking his clothes off. You tried to ignore it. You were starting to get wet, slowly but surely, so you carefully pushed one finger inside yourself, trying so hard to focus on the man, his voice. You heard a bottle of lube flick open. No, no, you weren’t here, as you added another finger. You could hear Ransom’s hand on his cock now as your thumb continued to rub your clit. You opened your eyes despite yourself. Ransom was kneeling on the edge of the bed, stroking himself to hardness. It was the first time you’d seen him fully naked. He really was so beautiful. You sort of hated him for it. 

You closed your eyes again. You could do this. You scissored your fingers slowly, opening yourself up, a little whine escaping your lips, when suddenly, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. You wanted to scream in frustration. It was no use. Your hands dropped down to your sides. You were ready enough. It wouldn’t hurt, it was fine. You blinked your eyes open again to find Ransom staring at your face, searching for something. You couldn’t begin to guess what. “I’m ready,” you said. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft, but gritty.

“Yeah, I’m good. How do you want me?”

He seemed almost startled by your question. “Uh, however you’re most comfortable.”

You nodded and flipped over onto your stomach, pulling your knees up toward your elbows and putting your ass in the air. This would be easiest if you didn’t have to look at him. If you could imagine someone else. Someone who loved you. Someone who wanted to be here. 

You heard the bottle of lube again and then felt him settle between your legs. One hand was on your ass and you presumed he was using the other to line himself up. You pushed your face into the pillow underneath you. You tried to bring the fantasy back as he slowly eased inside of you. He was big, but not so big it hurt. You breathed through it as he worked his way in with short, slow thrusts. He was being so gentle with you. You weren’t sure if you liked it. The hand on your ass moved to your hip, while the other snaked around to your stomach, softly stroking you there, then moved down over your pelvis, and then finally between your thighs to search for your clit. He found it quickly. But no matter how hard you closed your eyes, his fingers made it impossible for you to pretend that it was anyone else with you, anyone else touching you. Without thinking, you pushed his hand away and replaced it with your own. 

He was making little grunts and gasps behind you that you tried to ignore. You rubbed furious circles over your clit and tried to focus only on the fullness you felt. But then, that fullness started to lessen. The grunts behind you turned into a “Shit.” and then a “Fuck!” and suddenly, that fullness completely disappeared. You let out a little cry as he quickly pulled out of you. You turned around to catch a glimpse of his softening cock before he disappeared into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him. 

You lay on your back for just a moment, your mind trying to catch up, figure out what on earth had just happened. That voice that had been there this whole time, since that first meeting a month ago, came back with smug satisfaction. He doesn’t want you, it said, over and over. Your thighs were sticky, probably mostly from the lube. You didn’t think your wetness or his precome had been enough to make a mess out of you. You got up, desperate to not be naked anymore.  You grabbed a sleep shirt out of the closet you were using and slipped it on. You hugged yourself, standing in the middle of the room with no idea what to do. 

In the silence, with nothing else to focus on, you were suddenly aware of Lola crying across the hall. Fuck. Everything just kept getting worse.

Ransom came out of the bathroom and went straight to the bed. He stopped at the foot, seemingly surprised that you weren’t still in it. He looked up and found you on the other side of the room. 

“Is everything ok?” you asked quietly.

“It’s fine,” he said, voice sharp. You flinched and he sighed, then visibly tried to calm himself down. “It’s fine,” he said again, much softer this time. He held out a washcloth to you. “In case you need to clean yourself up.”

You took a few steps toward him so that you could grab it. “Thank you,” you said, as you quickly wiped between your legs, then went to finish cleaning up in the bathroom. 

When you came back out, he was back in bed, on his back, just staring at the ceiling. “What’s that noise?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you hurried to answer. “It’s Lola, but she’s ok. She just isn’t used to sleeping alone. She’ll get used to it, eventually.” Your heart broke as you spoke, but you knew it couldn’t be avoided. 

“Where does she usually sleep?” he asked.

It took you a minute to answer, you were so surprised by the question. “Uh, with me,” you said.

“Then go get her,” he said, without looking at you. He hadn’t looked at you since you’d come out of the bathroom.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Yeah, if it stops her crying.”

You didn’t wait to be told again. You hurried across the hall and opened her crate, scooping her up into your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you cooed. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s going to be ok now.”

When you got back to the room, Ransom had turned off his light and turned over onto his side, facing the wall. You placed Lola on the bed and crawled in after her. As you turned off your own lamp, you whispered, “Thank you,” not sure if he was awake to hear it.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit

[ihareyhis]

Spideys as incorrect quotes pt2

Hobie: *Kicks the door down*

Pavitr: What did you do?

Hobie: Nobody died.

Pavitr: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

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Miguel: What do you call disobeying the law?

The Squad: A hobby.

Miguel: *crosses their arms*

The Squad: That we do not engage in

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Pavitr: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this?

Hobie: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

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Pavitr, pointing at Hobie: Are they a Freak (derogatory)?

Pavitr, pointing at Gwen: Or a Freak (affectionate)?

Miles: Why not both?

Pavitr, to Miles: You’re so right, Freak

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Pavitr: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Hobie: *crouches down*

Gwen: *kneels down*

Miles: *sits on the floor*

Pavitr: I hate you all

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Miles: How do Hobie and Pavitr usually get out of these messes?

Gwen: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.

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Gwen: Hey Pavitr.

Pavitr: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: What the fuck?

Pavitr: You are one of my very best friends. And I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this. You're too young....YOU'RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!

Gwen: What the fuck are you talking about?

Pavitr: I'm talking about the baby that's growing inside of your belly right now.

Gwen: I'm not pregnant!

Pavitr: Well, not after that punch you're not. I've been taking muay thai classes.

Gwen: I was never pregnant, Pavitr!

Pavitr: Are... you sure?

Gwen: Yes I'm fucking sure!

Hobie: I'm sorry, but why the fuck is everybody yelling over here?

Pavitr: Oh, I found this positive pregnancy test and—

Hobie: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: AW, MOTHERFU–

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Gwen: Today at 7 am, Pavitr poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Hobie: I watched him brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm.

Miles: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me

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Miles: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Pavitr: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Hobie: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Gwen: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am no longer taking suggestions.

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Pavitr: What’s up with Gwen? she’s been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?

Hobie: She’s just a little overwhelmed.

Pavitr: Why?

Hobie: Miles smiled at her.

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Hobie, Gwen & Miles: *screaming*

Pavitr: *runs into the room* Miles whats wrong?!

Hobie: Wait, why are you asking Miles that when Gwen and I are also here?

Pavitr: Because Miles wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

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Hobie: What’s your biggest fear?

Gwen: That I’ll never be good enough for anyone.

Miles: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back.

Pavitr: Zombies.

Gwen: ...

Miles: ...

Pavitr: BUT they can open doors.

[into-the-lokiverse]

Who You Really Are (Loki, God of Stories x Reader)

Summary: When all appears lost to an aspiring novelist, the God of Stories sends a message of hope.

(credit to @lokitvsource for the gif)

You weren't sure how much further you could go on, or if you could go on.

For years, one of the biggest things you desperately wanted in life was to be a novelist. To entertain with stories of magic, power, action, romance, and a little nonsense.

But lately, as you sat before your desk, exhausted from the day job you relied on to pay the bills, you just couldn't bring yourself to move forward with your debut story. The plot felt too twisted to the point even you could barely comprehend it at times. The characters once vivid, were fading into shadows and dust of their former selves. And the scenes you envisioned in detail started to feel...unreachable.

And yet, you couldn not stop scribbling notes at every random moment of inspiration. You clung to the memory of your characters.

Like a parasite or an infection, the idea of your story plagued your mind for weeks, months to the point where it never seemed to leave you. You could barely think straight about anything else, even cleaning.

Half-drank cups of coffee at every corner of the desk, loose napkins with random thoughts written on them, a garbage can full of tissues, candy wrappers, and tea bags, a folder filled with printed images of your dark-haired, blue-eyed muse, and a stack of books that you checked out for "inspiration" but hardly touched.

The floor surrounding your desk had a thin layer of dust, wherever there weren't fallen pens you hadn't the heart to pick up, or papers you abandoned.

Am I meant to be a writer, or am I simply possessed?, you contemplated over a cup of stale coffee. Am I truly, clinically insane with obssssion? Am I doing the right thing, or have I finally lost my mind? Maybe I'm just crazy...maybe I'm wasting my time, doing the wrong thing that was never meant for me.

Or maybe I'm just not worthy of being the person who...does things. The person who flourishes in doing something they love.

But just as you were about to put your head down on the one free space on your cluttered desk, you spotted a mysterious note in parchment.

It read,

I believe in you.

I believe in every part of you, even in that couple of paragraphs you've stuffed in your desk (which honestly should be cleaned, but you won't do it.).

I believe in you because I know who you could become.

Because I know who you really are. You're a talented, blessed individual burdened with a glorious compulsivity to write and far too much fear for your own good.

But who you really are, it does not matter. It is all about the stories. The adventures.

There is a last refuge for the unloved and the desperate, and the persecuted.

When life gets too impossible, when life gets too terrifying, find hope in this, my talented scribe. That when all else fails, remember that you are a branch on the tree of life.

And in the center of that tree, there is someone watching over you, protecting you like he's always done before, and will continue to do so.

Your branch is just beginning. So marvel me, and marvel yourself with all you do. My blessing is with you.

For all time always.

Loki

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS - J.M

Warnings: pregnancy, main character death, violence, blood, grief

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: you loved Joel more than you had ever loved anyone else and when you were finally ready to start the rest of your lives together, the world collapsed

Wordcount: 4.1k

The alarm woke the two of you up that morning but he ignored it, tightening his arms around you as the two of you lay there in his bed.

"Alarm," the young girl called out, hand pounding on the door.

You didn't want to be taken out of the dream you had even though you knew that the morning sickness would wake you up any second.

You hadn't mentioned it to Joel yet but you'd checked and you were going to surprise him before he left for work for his birthday. You were 7weeks along and couldn't be happier.

You were snapped out of your thoughts of your future by Joel's groan as he pulled you tighter against him, "Five more minutes," he said, his voice gruff in your ear.

As you turned over and looked at your husband of two years, you thought of everything you'd done and been through. You were 5 years his junior and had met five years ago at a work event. You were a secretary at a work event he wa doing construction for and after spending the whole night staring at you, tommy had finally convinced him to ask you out.

Now as you lay here in his bed, looking up into his eyes, you knew that he had made the best decision. "Happy birthday handsome," you said and he pulled you closer to him, arms tightening around your waist.

He smirked, eyes opening to look at you as he spoke in his deep morning voice, “Do i get my present now?” He questioned, hand slipping down to pull on the bottom of his oversized shirt you were wearing.

You chuckled, pressing a hand against his chest as you pushed him away before sitting up in your share bed, “We have to make breakfast, Ill meet you downstairs,” you said, getting out of bed.

After getting changed, you walked down the stairs to the kitchen where you saw Sarah as she stood at the stove, cooking some eggs. As you walked past, you pressed a kiss to the girls temple as you went to grab a glass of water from the fridge.

Sarah had only been 7 when you started dating her dad and she love you from the second that you two met. She had never had a mother like any of the other girls at school had had but you were more than enough.

“You want any help lovey?” You asked as you saw the girl cooking the eggs.

Sarahs nose scrunched up in disgust, she loved your cooking but eggs was in no way your forte, “I’m good,” she said, trying to be polite as you sat down at the counter.

You looked over at the stairs when you heard a noise, watching as Joel walked into the room. He walked over to his daughter, pressing a kiss to her forehead before reaching for the coffee machine.

Sarah asked where the pancake mix was and her fathers face scrunched up in the same way Sarahs had earlier, they were more similar than they thought they were, "I don't like pancakes," he said.

"I know, but me and mum do," Sarah said, grinning at you. You would never get over her calling you that because it showed just how accepted you were in the little family. She turned to the fridge, pouring her father a glass of orange juice, "It's Vitamin C,"

He shook his head in disgust, sliding the juice over the counter. You smiled, picking it up and taking a sip as he drank his coffee. You picked the glass up as you both walked over to the table, watching as Sarah placed their food on the table.

"How old are you again?" Sarah asked teasingly.

"36," he said, taking a sip from his coffee. He had missed out on so much in his life but the only thing he wanted now was to grow old with his daughter and his wife, ready to live the rest of their lives together.

He was snapped out of his daydream when he heard the door open and and they all turned to him as he walked in, "Hey, still alive you old fucker," he said, grabbing a cup of coffee fron the pot, "You look cheery, you get some last night?"

"Course he did," Sarah said and Joel choked on his food, looking up at his 12 year old daughter, thinking about what she had just insinuated.

"Sarah!' The two adults exclaimed, looking over at her as Tommy laughed at the idea.

“At this rate, you two will have some evil mini mes running all over this house,” Tommy joked and Joel laughed at the concept.

Your face scrunched up as you looked over at him, brows furrowed at the idea that he didn’t want that with you, “Would that be so bad Joel?” You questioned and he looked at you, mimicking the same confused look.

He shrugs, looking at you with the ghost of a smirk on his lips, “No, I don’t think it would,’ he said.

The words sent a wave of relief through you and though you didnt want to mention it now, you were. You had the tests upstairs and the first scan that you had gotten the other day at the hospital to prove it. You smiled at him at the idea and his face sank, almost like he was going through all five stages of grief.

“Honey,” he said, his voice quiet as he looked at you, your smile growing every second that you looked at his shocked face, “Are you serious?”

The room was silent as they waited for your answer. Sarah had a huge grin on her face as she looked at you, the excitement of having a baby brother or sister bubbling up inside of her. Tommys eyes were wide as he looked over at the table, realising that he spoiled the surprise - you had mentioned it to him the other day as he had driven you to the hospital.

“Surprise,” you said, your voice quiet as you waited to gauge the reaction from the others, “I had this whole thing prepared for tonight Joel-“

You started to speak and he cut you off, pulling you into a kiss - he didn’t normally kiss you that much in front of Sarah so the act alone made it clear how happy he was. When he pulled away, his hands came up to cup your cheeks and he looked into your eyes, tears welling up in his.

“We’re going to have a baby?” He questioned again, trying to keep his emotion in as he looked at you. Sarahs mother had never stuck around but he knew that you would, he knew that you were everything he was looking for in a person.

You nodded your head and he kissed you again, one hand going down to rest on your stomach, “7 weeks,” you stated when you pulled away from the kiss.

Joel looked around the room, a huge smile on his face as he looked at his family, “We’re going to have a baby!” He exclaimed, repeating the sentiment as he looked at the others.

When he noticed Sarah had started crying, his face sunk as he wondered if she was unhappy about it, even though she was the one who had been begging for a little sibling since you two got married, “What’s wrong baby?” He asked and Sarah sniffled.

“I’m so happy,” she said, laughing in between the tears. He pressed a kiss against her forehead with a smile.

“Me too Sarah, me too,” he said, looking back at you. Nobody in the room had ever seen Joel miller smile that much before but right now, it looked like he would never stop.

“Congratulations you two, guess I get to be the fun uncle for another kiddo,” he said, a smile on his face.

The rest of the breakfast went smoothly, all of them talking about how exciting it was going to be, what they were going to name the baby, how they were going to paint the nursery but all good things must come to an end. Joel left for the day to pull a double shift at the construction yard and you drove to work.

You were laying on the sofa, fast asleep, when you heard a noise coming from outside. When you finally fully woke up, you checked the time and noticed the sound of helicopters flying overhead.

You started to panic and pulled a jacket on as you rushed to Sarah’s room, you bag slung on your back. When you noicted that she wasnt in bed, you rushed outside, screaming her name.

That’s when you saw Joel’s truck rushing down the street - he had gone out to pick tommy up from jail after an incident - and when the car parked, he jumped outside.

“Where’s Sarah?” He asked, looked around, a wrench in his hand as he walked over.

Just as he said that, she ran out of the Adlers house, the girl running into your arms as you tried to protect her from whatever it was that Joel was scared of.

Nana Adler started crawling out of the house and anyone could tell that the three adults were scared and unsure what to do. You didnt even know what was going on but with Tommy standing there, a shotgun in his hand, you knew that something was wrong.

"What are we doing Joel?" Tommy asked, his voice loud as he pointed the shotgun at the old lady. She seemed sick, her face morphing into something horrid as she scrambled towards them.

When she got closer, Joel did the only thing he could think about doing to protect his family, he hit her over the head. He had to kill the elderly woman because if he didnt, then there was any chance that she could kill his family.

You gasped, pulling Sarah’s face into your body in an attempt to make sure that she didn’t have to watch her elderly neighbour being bludgeoned to death by Joel.

"He killed her," Sarah whispered into your chest and Joel came over to the two girls, knowing that you both deserved answers.

When he looked into your eyes, he could see that you were scared and confused and he felt bad that this was happening to you now. You two were just about to start your family and now you were being flung head first into an apocalypse that you had no idea about.

When his daughter looked up at him, he noticed the look of pure fear in her eyes - she had never looked at him like that before and he could feel the guilt sinking in his stomach "It's not just the Adlers but we're gonna be brave,"

You nodded and he grabbed your hand, checking on the both of you quickly. You watched Sarah get into the car and he pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You okay baby girl?” He asked and you nodded, “We’re going to make it through this, all of us,”

You got into the car, sitting down next to Sarah when you noticed that the other two Adlers were rushing towards the car - they were infected, "Get your seatbelt on!" Joel yelled out and the two girls did.

"I'm scared," Sarah said as she looked up at you. You didnt know how to reassure the girl, you didnt even know what was going on. All you could think about was your family, your baby. You looked down at the bag that you had carried out; inside was the present for Joel, the sonogram.

“What’s going on boys?” You asked, trying to hide the shake in your voice as you looked out of the window as they sped through the streets.

Tommy shook his head in the front from where they were sitting, "They're saying its a virus. Some sort of parasite," he explained, looking back at them.

Sarah let out a shaky sigh, "Are we sick?" She questioned, eyes wide as she looked over at you.

You took her hand in yours, "Course not," you said as you tried to comfort her on a subject that you knew nothing about. You could all be sick for all that you knew but you had to make sure she wasnt too worried

"How do you know? How do you know we're not sick?" She questioned an you could hear the fear in her voice.

The girl had been so excited this morning, she had picked out baby names that she wanted and was preparing for the rest of her life as a big sister. Now she was preparing to potentially die.

Joel turned back and looked at the two of you, "They're saying it people in the city, that's why they got the highway blocked off," he explained and you nodded, unsure what that meant.

He hated seeing his daughter like that, so upset and scared, but he knew that you would look after her and that you were going to be okay. He didnt know how this morning he had recieved the greatest news in his life and now he was sitting here, planning on runnning away to save his family.

As they drove through the streets, Tommy looked in horror at a house on fire in a field, "God. That's Jimmy's place," he said, almost like he finally realised the extent of all of it. It was surreal as they heard the sirens on the streets and prepared for the end of the world as they knew it.

"The Adlers would take nana into the city," Sarah said almost absentmindedly suddenly. You nodded, listening to Joel reassure her that that must be how they got As they drove onto the highway, Joel swore as he looked at all of the other trucks lining up in an attempt to escape the hell, "Everyone had the same fucking idea," Tommy said.

He was just as scared as you and Joel were. This was his family too, but he had to put on a brave face.

"Take the field, we'll pick it up on the west side," you suggested, and Tommy nodded, the car jolting back and forth as they drove across the grass.

When they were driving through, Tommy stopped aburpty when he noticed that the entire military was lining the highway that they were trying to get to, "The fucking army," Tommy said.

"Keep moving, head north," Joel said and you could hear the panic in his voice as he starts to yell, explaining that there was nowhere else that they could go, "Tommy, come on,"

He would do anything for his family, especially now, "Where do we go?" You questioned, not knowing what they were going to do now. You werent even write sure what really was going on but also, nobody else seemed to know either.

"We go as far as we go, I don't know, Mexico," he said, shaking his head as he tried to save the family that he had spent so long building, "Go to the river, get across. Pick up the highway and then we're out,"

As he looked back at you and Sarah, you whispering to the girl to try to keep her calm, one hadn on her shoulder and one on your stomach, he wanted to cry. He wanted to break down and destroy whoever had done this to his family.

"Maybe its everywhere, maybe there's nowhere to go," Sarah said, trying to stay strong for everyone else but you could tell that her voice was breaking.

"We will be fine sweetheart," you said, reaching down and grabbing the girls hand, “You’re a strong girl and you’re going to make it, we all are,”

You were absolutely terrified for your family, for your baby but you couldn’t let it show for Sarahs sake. You had never had a good family life and now that you had this one, you couldn’t bear to lose it.

They started to drive through town, the four of them horrified ad they looked at the crowds of people. Some people were running for safety and some were chewing on other people.

Tommys eyes were wide as he stared into the distance, "I can't drive through them," he said, his hand shaking on the wheel.

"Keep going," Joel yelled out, all of his protective instincts bubbling up. There was no part of Joel that would ever let anything happen his family, to his brother, to his daughter, his wife and his unborn child and he knew that he would kill people to protect them if he had to.

All of a sudden, a large crowd started to emerge in the distance and they realised that there was something going on over there, probably more infected people. There was no way they'd make it through.

"Back!" Joel exclaimed, his voice breaking slightly "Tommy go faster, mow the fuck over them,

"Joel!" You yelled out and he turned to look in the front window when he noticed that a plane was crashing down and was going to land in their direction - it was going to kill them all.

Your head was a blurry for a second as you crashed and when you woke up, you were upside down and Joel was reaching through the car to grab you. You winced as he pulled you out.

He pulled you into his lap, whispering your name under his breath as he checked to make sure you were alright. His heart was pounding as he looked over at the other side of the car where Sarah and Tommy were standing.

For a second there, when you weren't responding, his entire life flashed before him and he couldn't bare to think about what life without you would even look like. He might as well be dead if you were.

“Dad? Are you and mom okay?” The girl called out from the other side of the car, holding onto her uncle.

"She's fine, you're fine, aren't you baby," he asked, hands coming up to her face and she nodded, looking in his eyes like it would be the last time.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head, "My ankle hurts, but I'll be fine," you said and he helped you stand.

Just as you were about to make your way around to check on Sarah and tommy, another car crashed into theirs, blocking the way around, "Head to the River, we'll find a way," Tommy said, knowing there was no way round.

“Let’s go babygirl,” Joel said, wrapping his arm around her as they started running. When they made it into an alleyway, they started running at the sight of one of the infected behind them. They started running as fast as they could, legs carrying them into an abandoned field at the back.

Just as you thought that you weren't going to make it through, the infected man was shot and you and Joel both looked over to see a man from the State police standing in the field.

Joel wrapped his arm round your waist, your ankle had gotten worse from all that running and he could hear you wincing as he walked over to the man.

“Help us, my wife, she’s hurt her ankle,” he said and the man was hesitating, hand on his gun, “She’s pregnant, please,”

You both stood there for a second, not knowing what the man was going to do or say. You looked up at Joel, looking into his deep brown eyes for wht you wondered may be the last time.

The man picked up his radio, “we have two civilians, a man and his injured wife, she’s pregnant,” the man said.

They couldn’t hear what the man said though the radio after that but when he received his orders, he held up his gun and you both knew that this was not going to end well.

“Please, we’re not sick, we’re not sick,” he repeated almost begging the man and when he heard the bullet fire, he did the only thing that he could think of doing, he turned his body around to shied you but it was too late.

When he opened his eyes, he looked up at the man who had the gun still pointed at you. The man never shot again and Joel flinched when he heard a gunshot. When he looked at him, the man was falling to the ground and Tommy was standing there with the shotgun in his hand.

The first thing he heard was Sarah’s scream and then he turned to see you laying there. He crawled over to you, tears in his eyes as he looked at the bullet wounds all in your stomach and chest. There was no way you were going to make it.

“Babygirl, babygirl, come on,” he said and when he tried to move you, you screamed. He pulled you into his lap, tears in his eyes as he held his hand to your abdomen in an attempt to save you somehow.

“Joel, Joel, it hurts,” you said through gritted teeth. It was like someone was pulling at you, peeling your skin off completley. You don’t know how you could bear it any longer so you closed your eyes.

“Look at me honey, don’t do this to me,” he said, listening to your sobs. He turned back, tears in his eyes as he looked at Tommy and Sarah, the latter of which had tears streaming down her cheeks, “Don’t let her see, dont let her look,”

He pressed his hand against your wounds desperately no matter how loud you screamed. He was watching his future slip away from him in those last seconds and you closed your eyes, sobs getting quieter.

“Stay with me baby, come on, come on,” he repeated over and over again and you opened your eyes, looking into his eyes.

“It hurts Joel,” you whispered, “The baby Joel, my baby,”

You let out a scream as he pressed his jacket to your stomach in any attempt to save you. He wasnt going to sit idlely and wait, “We’re going to make it darling, just stay with me,”

“I’m cold Joel,” you said, a chuckle escaping you as you closed your eyes, “Its so cliche, I’m cold baby,”

He let the tears flowed down his cheeks and your eyes fluttered open, focusing on him. You thought back to the first time you looked into his deep brown eyes from across the room and wished you could go back there. As the world slipped away, his hand in yours, you let his face ground you.

He let out a guttural scream as he pulled you into his arms, feeling your body go limo against him. Joel couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He had failed at the only thing he had ever promised you to do. He had failed to look after you.

Even tommy closed his eyes as he watched his brother lose the only woman he ever really loved. He couldn’t watch, he could listen to the sobs from his niece and the screams from his brother as he tried to hold onto any piece of you that he could.

Joels eyes opened when he heard something flutter to the ground and he looked at a crumpled up sonogram that had fallen from your pocket. The pad of his thumb wiped the blood off of it, your blood, as he looked at what could have been his future.

He had lost almost everything in one moment, his unborn child, his wife and the only woman he had ever truly loved. His hand came down to your stomach, hands stained with blood now as he kept trying.

He let out one more visceral scream as he held your body to his. He wasn’t ready to let go and he never would.

[swifty-fox]

Would you be happy to share a little bit of John's head space when he was arrested, unable to reach Gale (not even knowing if he was safe) and then when Curt told him he'd got in touch? LOVEEEEEED this part. Prison tropes are yummy #chapel au

(p.s. I hope he was loyal in jail too!)

ask and ye shall receive (sometimes)

Now on Ao3!

The cops chip his tooth clean off throwing him over the corpse of the Corolla. He watches the white bone bounce away as pain blooms vivid and sharp across his face. Cursing before the sensation truly registers, still processing the sharp crack he cusses out the hands roving over his body, dragging his arms roughly behind his back, cold metal clinching tight around his wrists.

“It was a con. It was my fuckin hand in my pocket! There’s no goddamn weapon if you’d listen to me for just a second you stupid fuckin’ pigs.”

There’s a gun pointed at him. He’s not used to the reversal. His side throbs in phantom memory.

Folded into the back of a cruiser like dirty laundry he leans back uncomfortably on his cuffed hands and runs his tongue over the jagged edge of his tooth again and again, shuddering at the pain of it. 

He pictures Gale on a bus to California, staring out the window and playing with his braid until the flyaways outmatched the hair tie. Usually, he was frowning slightly, unless he had a gun in his hand or he was looking at John, and John imagines himself pressing a thumb to the imaginary furrow of Gale’s imaginary brow. 

It’s soothing enough as he breathes and watches the cops rip apart the car, scattering his and Gale’s entire life across the roadside. 

He shouts, knowing they won’t hear him, “There’s no fucking gun!”

-*~*-

They don't quite rough ride him but a few of the red lights have his chest hitting the front seat for how he can’t catch himself with anything but his already sore face. He cusses them out for it every time.

-*~*-

He’s given some fresh from the bar bushy-tailed lawyer who can’t be any older than he is. Veal’s convinced he’s saving his life, arguing for time served on account of his lack of a permanent address and he smiles at him with teeth and tells the judge to go fuck himself. 

It’s stupid. He can hear Gale sighing in his ear. Gale with his serious face and eyes that went electric and feral with a gun on his hand, a mask over his face. Quick clever Gale who had only ever missed a single camera in all their time together. Gale who is in California, waiting for a partner in crime who will never show up now. 

They hit him with the full fifteen months, of course. John sits as the courtroom slowly clears, eyes fixed unseeingly at the desk and thinks he’s made the worst mistake of his life.

-*~*-

Gale, Gale, Gale. 

If he were a less secure man he’d be disgusted with himself how often he spent thinking about his partner in crime. The whip of his braid in the wind and the white slash of his teeth when John got him to truly smile. The taste of his sweat and the way he was slow to wake in the morning. Quiet and unspeaking as John slowly coaxed him from bed with his lips and soft murmurs. Sweet and slightly vacant until they got a cup of coffee in his hands. 

He runs over the last moments of them together, the animal panic in Gale’s face, the soft growl behind his kiss as John drank him down in the shadows. The stiff broad line of his shoulders as he boarded the bus.

Tucking the snowglobe into his bag when he wasn’t looking, John’s fingers shaking. 

He’s used to leaving. He’s left his family and he’s left friends and towns and places all over. He’s left girls in bed and boys in rest-stop bathrooms and he’s left a fair few morals at his father's grave too. 

Leaving Gale, or Gale leaving him, feels like it had been the most enormous thing he’s ever done. He’d waved the bus away and then sat in their car until the sun rose, trying to convince himself to turn the ignition and put the car in a direction that was not after Gale.

It was a good plan. 

It’s not Gale’s fault that John never knew how to keep his mouth shut, never believed this stupid little car that had been his home, and then their home, would ever give out on him.

John wonders how long Gale will bother to wait for him. He wonders if he’ll try to make his way back to their usual haunts, if he’ll cut and run like he’d been ready to do before John had whisked him away. 

He calls Curt every few days, leaning against the phone booth and working his teeth over the inside of his cheek. 

“Ain’t heard anything, Bucky,” Curt says voice as tender as it ever could be. 

“You’ll tell him?” John asks, as stupid as the question was, “If he calls you’ll tell him I didn’t mean to not be there.” 

-*~*-

The worst part, aside from the fact his heart is outside his body and somewhere in California, is that prison is boring. It’s not awful, Nebraska isn’t exactly a hotbed of violent crime, but even so John is sure to carry himself with every inch of his size, turns up the swagger in his step and drapes himself into chairs with a sprawl that shows off how little he cares, how confident he is in his place. He doesn’t start anything, but he doesn’t frame himself as someone easy to push over either. 

A lot of time is wasted away with physical activity. Basketball or wall ball with himself or teaching himself how to do chin-ups until his arms shake. It pays off. He wonders if Gale would like it.

He calls Curt, and Curt tells him he’s heard nothing and John spends his nights fantasizing about breaking out and somehow finding his partner in crime in the vastness of America to deal with it. 

-*~*-

His bunkmate is a rail-thin man named Hamilton. He’s got a gold tooth and a fucked up face and looks like the sort of guy who carries a knife just to show it off but he’s friendly and easygoing as they come and found a way to bring up his wife in every conversation. It’s charming until it gets annoying.

“The hell’d he even do?” He asks another inmate even though it’s considered bad manners. 

Douglass shrugs, carefully sketching his way through a letter, “His sister’s boyfriend put hands on her, so Ham took a hammer to ‘em.”

John taps out a cigarette,and offers one to Douglass because it’s the universal way of making friends, even behind chain-link fences, “Is his wife really in the circus?” 

“Fuck if I know.”

-*~*-

“Anything?”

“John, I promise you’d be the first to know.” 

-*~*-

Sometimes, rarely, and only late at night, John prays. They’d taken his father's crucifix with the rest of his personals and its absence was heavy around his neck. It’s more to his father that he prays anyway, rather than God. Asks him if he’d be proud – doubtful. Or if he’d think there was still time to save John – more likely. 

Remembers his big hand wrapped around John’s small one, tugging his balking form towards the church.

“Why can’t I just confess to you? Why do I have to do it with Pastor Coyne?

“Because as your father I’d be tempted to discipline or lecture you, Bucky. This is for you to be forgiven; for you to forgive yourself.”

He preferred his father’s God. But that God had been lowered into the ground right alongside Pastor Egan’s casket.

Look after him dad, he doesn’t have anyone doing it now. Needs it more than I do that’s for sure. Just make sure he’s among friends.

-*~*-

In the less romantic sense, he thinks about Gale a lot. It’s a gentleman's understanding, taking care of one’s needs; quiet and unobtrusive as possible. He’s heard Ham’s hitched breathing enough times during night or knowingly squeezed a few extra moments in the showers to allow the other man privacy. What a man does under the rough wool blankets they’re given is his own business. 

John thinks about Gale. About the wild pout of his lips that were the first thing John noticed. The hollow of his neck and collarbones, the way both fit perfectly between his fingers. How Gale’s eyes rolled as John squeezed tight, uncompromisingly trusting. The flushed curved of his cock sliding down John’s throat, splitting John open as Gale slipped elegant fingers into his mouth and made him suck the flavor of the leather wheel off them. 

Pulls himself off to the image of Gale’s broad tanned shoulders, speckled with water and braid tucked teasingly to one side. He’s smiling at John, glancing over his shoulder with the sun turning his lashes wispy and clear.

-*~*-

He gets prison ink, bored and reckless and maybe a little angry. Thick black stars on the front of his hips, and the constellation of the moles on Gale’s face on the inner corner of his elbow. Nonsense dots to anyone else but he knows they’re accurate down to the millimeter. 

It should be. He’s had three years to memorize them.

-*~*-

“John.” Curt says, voice short and shocked and clipped. He’s breathless, a little giddy in the pitch of his voice and John’s stomach drops right down through the concrete floor. 

“Is he okay?” are the first words out of his mouth.

-*~*-

Five minutes he speaks to Curt, five minutes before he hands up and dials the number he’d said aloud until he had it memorized without risk of failure. His hands don’t shake, but his heart feels like it’s about to give out and he’s worrying the inside of his cheek like a dog with a bone, the flaws gone raw and bloody. 

Gale Gale Gale.

It’s a mantra in his mind, a hail-fucking-mary and for once he barrels right past the memory of his father and thanks the big man directly. Because Gale is alive and Gale is whole and Gale has fucking found him. His fingers slip on the numbers, the phones connecting before it barely has the chance to ring and then John’s suddenly unable to breath as he hears a quiet exhale that’s as familiar as his own face in the mirror.

“Gale?”

A quiet sound of confirmation, thick with breathless emotion. The creak of plastic as the phone is gripped too tight. John presses his forehead against the top of the booth as if he might escape through the line itself and be back at his partners side.

“Hi doll,” He croaks, unable to keep the first smile in four months off his face, “Hi sweetheart.”

[theanimekid]

Steamy Sensation

Samuel seo x Fem reader

Summary: Your boss has been wanting you since you came into his building, when he finally heard that your now single. He makes his first move.

Warnings🖤: Smut, 18+, begging, teasing, impact kink, praise, kink shower sex, size kink, spanking, rough sex, dirty talk, choking/ breathplay, degradation, dacryphilia, a bit of cheating?

A/n: I put my mind into something and I took it.

You didn’t know... you couldn’t have known... that the events that had this situation... would have come to this.

it was just another day at the One MCN, you walked in almost late because you were having the time of your life with your best friend. You stumbled your way into your office and shutterbug the door. Breathing the sigh of relief, you felt your body sinking into your feet. Another second and my ass would’ve been done for.

You adjusted your bodycon knee high long sleeve black silk dress. With the v-neck collar showing off your bare chest, you sat down on your chair with the file of finished paperwork in front of you. Looks like someone managed to finish them on my behalf, you thought as a small smile spread from cheek to cheek. As you skimmed through the first file with your working glasses on. The knock on the door can be heard from your ears, you raised your heard to meet one of your coworkers leaning on the door with two cups of coffee in hand. “ I did some of the files for you, if that’s alright,” he said with a smile as he walked over to your desk and placed the coffee on it. You thanked him for being a lifesaver, as you grabbed the coffee, And drank from the cup with two of your hands. The small fingers grazing the rim of the cup when you placed back on your desk, your eyes never leaving s you stared at the brown substance. The male coworker noticed your actions, feeling rather curious of what the secretary is thinking about. He placed his hand on your shoulder, “is everything okay?” He asked. You woke from your trance, looking back at him.

“ Oh-um yes, yes I’m fine... Just thinking...”

“about him?”

You sighed again. “ Yea... I am.” “Hey, you shouldn’t not be with a guy like him, he’ll just make your life as miserable than the last.” He spoke with visible concern, your boyfriend has been sleeping around with other women for the past two years. Straight. And every time the two of you argued, he’ll try to pathetically apologized and say that he’ll change. And being the innocent and responsible person, you poorly forgave him. But it wasn’t the last time you ever see him again. Because recently, he still thinks that you and him are still together, even after you the two of you broke up. You thought that going’s to the club with your friends would ease the the scary feeling, but somehow it finds a way back to you like a spider crawling up the drain. You turned your attention to the glass wall staring at the city. “ I know but... I still think he’s out there. Waiting.” The loud cough drew you both towards their boss standing tall and unpleased. “You were supposed to be in my office 10 minutes ago, y/n.” You quickly rose from your seat and bowed, and your co worker did the same. “Yes sir, sorry sir.” You said as you grabbed the paperwork and walked towards your door, Samuel held the door open as you walked past him, he turned to see his employee smile nervously. Your boss followed behind you to his office, the elevator door closed shut behind you as he was the last to exit. He went over his large chair and held out his hand for today’s paperwork. You appear, and placed the files in his hand, and in return, he gave you a new file to look over. As the usual, you sat on the couch looking over the file with your legs crossed. You were the only one that enter his office since one, you are his secretary.

Your boss was on the phone, scheduling yet another meeting for you and him to plan, you looked through today’s numbers with the streamers, (that have not been held against their will), has sky rocked once again. You readjusted your glass as you highlighted the last sentence. You paced the file on his desk before heading to the elevator. “ y/n, are you available tonight?” He asked suddenly. You stopped at the elevator door and turned shyly, “ Um.. what?”. He chuckled, your boss stood up from his chair and walked in front of his desk and leaned on it, giving you his signature normal glance. “ I asked you, are you free for tonight?” He tone the same, firm and so damn sexy. “ Is there’s a reason you asked me that sir?” You questioned back as you felt your face tensed up, a small tint on your cheeks as you adjusted one of your big braids. “ I... want to discuss our next meeting in two weeks by now.” You felt your whole went silent and you grumbled. Damn it, it was too good to be true. You thought but you didn’t want to show it. You politely shook your head no. He hummed, “ good, if you did it would be a problem,” “Excuse me?” “ uh... nothing. You can take your leave now, and by the way, you do know you can address me by my first name.” He interrupted. You blinked twice before shaking your head. “Oh, right si- I mean Samuel,” You stuttered as you pressed the elevator button and it closed. The last thing you saw was your boss staring back at you with a tiny smile on his face.

It was already night time since the last time you looked at your window. The city glow like the stars in the night, you stretched in your chair, mumbling under your breath as you rises from you seat. You stepped out of your office and stares at the clock a you walked past, it’s almost 9, you sighed. You ever the security guard good night before seeing the rain drops fall on the street. You facepalmed to yourself, “ Can this day get any worse?” You mumbled to yourself as the rain got heavier. The lightning flashed before your eyes scaring you, backing up from the front door, you felt what you think that was a large wall was only your boss in one of his expensive suits. And the umbrella in one hand, “ for someone’s who was even my secretary, check the weather.” You sighed annoyingly, “ and even my boss, should loosen up once in a while.” You replied back. Watching the rain for another second, he took you by the hand as the umbrella opened and covered the heavy raindrops, it startled you at first, seeing your boss... acting like a gentleman. You never did try to read his thoughts, that’s because he’s impossible to read, let alone, impossible to have a conversation with. The engine turned as the car drove off, you sat in the front seat as Samuel as his hands on the wheel, the veins poking out of his knuckles, you couldn’t help but stare at them. So meaty and huge, he’ll possibly wrap his hand around your throat and you’ll wear it like a necklace. Makes you wonder, if his fingers are like that then what about the...

The car screeched as you looked ahead of you, your face now turning horrified as you saw the man in front of the car, your ex carrying a knife in his hand. The black hoodie covered his head. He felt your expression without even looking at you, “ Wait, here” he said before getting out of the car and walking slowly to your ex, you couldn’t tell what they were talking about but then your ex threw the first strike, Samuel dodged it and have him a mean right hook to the face. You stared at them, the skin fading off his body? No it’s makeup some kind, hiding the inked tattoo on his knuckles, his hair was messy and off to the side of his face. Making him even more attractive. This weird feeling was introduced between your thighs as they were rubbing together on their own. Your breathing hitched, your face feels flushed, that was weirdly sexy?! In a good way?

He went backwards towards his car before tossing the body off of the street. He closed the door and continued driving. He turned his gaze to see your blushed face looking down at the floor, he smiled teasingly. “Everything alight, princess?” You nodded without looking at him. Too embarrassed to say anything. He turned off the engine, and prepare to leave his car, “ Come on, were here.”

“Here? But this is...”

“Yes, it’s my apartment. You’ll be staying with me till he cools off.”

“ So.. the whole business date...”

“ rescheduled for next weekend.”

He rescheduled it. But how... did he know about...

“Come now, or else you’ll get drenched.” He offered as he opened the car door and held out his hand. You accepted as he lead you into his home.

Something felt... off about this. You didn’t noticed it until now, how your boss was acting... different around you. The warm sting of he shower sparkling across the body, the skin shining in the bathroom light. Your eyes are closed as a soft thin of smoke came from your mouth as you sighed, you wrapped your arms around your bare chest. Your thighs clenched, rubbing the plump skin. So drowned in your thoughts, you shake off the scene that happened earlier, the markings on his hands, the veins prodding out of his palms, his chest. You imagined in your lushest dreams, his entire body covered in tattoos from head to toe, his fingers digging into your pussy, you screaming out his name, his cock thick as a tree trunk, stretching you out inch by inch, pounding you til you were numb. This happened for weeks if not monthly. But you buried those thoughts during work, i’ll not only make you unprofessional, but also a pervert. But, this time those lewd dreams came back quietly. “samuel... sam... please... t-touch me, sir” You mumbled as you reached your thin fingers into your entrance, massaging the rosebud, you whimper as your climax is at your peak.

Something pulled you by the arm and slammed you against the shower wall. You gasped, the man stood in front of you, his eyes were looking back at you like prey, his display of black ink that covered his body in suits is out in the open. The raindrop like shower spilled on his hair and onto his body, A breath of hot smoke came out of his mouth as he sighed. “I always wondered if virgin girls like you are not as innocent as they say,” he chuckled as his body caged you against the shower wall. “ Turns out, I was right.” He drove two fingers into your wet core, reacting a breathless whimper, his fingers explored every inch of your pussy, stretching. He slowly pulled out and slammed it back in, your eyes closed as your head tilted back. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “How long have thought about this.. have you thought about me?” He said.

“ F-for months.” You replied as your body was reaching it’s climax, he groaned as felt your cunt clenching around his fingers when he speed up his tempo. Seo half- heartedly laughed, such a needy little whore you are. He looked down to see the mess and on his hand, the slick spread across his fingers as you came. He took the slick substance and licked his fingers cleaned, tasting you. He hummed at the mere thought of breaking his little secretary till you think of no one else but him... no one.

Seo hiked up your legs and wrapped them around his shoulders, his face hovering above your entrance, you felt his hot breath needing at your core. You can’t take this... you need him. “ You smell like a innocent virgin...” He drove his nose in your wet heat, he licked your essence off your pussy, “ But you taste like a slut, i bet your little ex never made you feel this way before, hadn’t he?” You shook your head, he dove his tongue into your pussy, tasting every corner of your wet heat, the sound of your moans echoed, your body felt hot, the steam flowed out of your mouth. His iron grip on your thighs held you in place. It’s too much... the feeling your climax.

He can feel you’re thighs clenched around his face, he gave a slap on your inner thigh, you squeaked, He stared at you with his dark hues of list in his eyes and his voice demanded, “ Come on my face or you won’t get to cum at all.” You scream, your fluids spasms on his face as you came, the intense orgasm has you melting. Seo suck off as much as can. Slurping your filthy cunt, he still remained eye contact watching you withering, submerging into pleasure. He stood up and kissed you deeply and passionately, tasting yourself in his mouth. You pulled away, letting yourself breathe, Samuel wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I wanted you since the day you walked into my office,” he admitted, with a wicked smile on his face. He took his free hand and grabbed the cockhead, slowly grazing a tree your wet folds, “ I wanted to pound that pretty pussy til it can only fit me.” he grunted ass push ed the tip into you. Pulling out sweet choked out moans, each inch felt like he was splitting you in half. “N-N-no it’s too much, y-you won’t fit.” He shushed your whines, “it’s okay, just a little more.” you nodded hesitantly, leaning you’re head on the back of the wall, Seo buried his face intonations the crook of your neck as his cock continued to stretch your insides, the feeling of being split into the woods. It only a matter of moments till he bottomed out. Your mouth gaped to the feeling of his entire manhood plunged inside of you. He started to move, bringing he cannot ice out and slamming it back in, the sound flesh against flesh, your loud screams and moans mirrored the bathroom. Bouncing against wall, a string of curses and shallow grunts can be heard from him and end of his thrusts upped the tempo. Your body felt ruined against him, limping, his iron hand came to hugged your chin and force to look at him while he completely destroyed your insides. You felt a unfamiliar coil in your tummy. “Nhnn-mm- Sam-uel, f-f-fuck i’m gonna c-cum, gonna-.”

“Cum for me, my little cocksleeve, show me how you much want this dick.” You moaned, arching your back forward his chest and he took one of the breast and feasted like it was a last meal. HmYour slick coated husband hard member as he continues to thrust into your poor abused pussy. His voice was a mixture of grunts and groans vocalizing. His thrusts starts to lose their rhythm. It won’t ben long till he comes into your cunt. Your body is so tired, why isn’t he tapping out?

Samuel thrusted like there was no tomorrow, til he emptied himself into you. Filling every last inch into your pussy. The rainfall of the shower filled the silence between the two of you. He kissed herb ire marks on your tender skin. Your body ached, bruised, and fucked out of existence. The weight of your eyes felt heavily on you. The shower stopped and he carried you out of the shower. Your head cuddle fat his neck, sighing as slumber is soon to take you. Samuel sighed, “ And who said we were done? We still have another round to make you mine.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Alright awesome, uh aHEM-

Y/N trying to comfort Theodore: “Listen man I’m really sorry about the divorce, you two really loved each other so it must’ve been really rough.. If you need any help or just want someone next to you then know I’ll be right here for you okay? And hey on the bright side, there are plenty of fish in the sea! I’m sure you’ll find your one and only eventually”

Meanwhile Theodore is internally flipping out cause: Oh my god the divorce was actually a blessing in disguise she’s finally gone and fuck I think I really love Y/N and they’re sitting here comforting me and touching me I want them so bad what do I do fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

Theodore never liked coffee. The bitterness clung to the roof of his mouth and caffeine gave him jitters til next week if he drank too much. With the kids and all his school work pilling up, he needed something to keep him awake and everything else he tried had no effect. He experimented with different creamers and sugars, and created the perfect mix to help it all go down. He figured it wouldn't be too much of a crime to ask his then girlfriend to pick up his drink of choice whenever she bought drinks for herself - only to be handed a black coffee everytime.

"Ta-da! One iced latte. They didn't have that toffee creamer you like so I raided your fridge. Once you're feeling better, we really need to get you out of this house, mister."

His blanket falls from his shoulders as he reaches out. "... thanks."

His voice was hoarse and scratchy; startling even him as it crawled from his throat. It sounded foreign to him, but that's exactly what that woman did. Somedays he couldn't look in the mirror without seeing a glimpse of the shy, awkward teen he used to be - and the stranger that person had because. He was a wreck. He hadn't slept. He only showered when he had to pick up the kids from their grandparents. He hadn't eaten anything in days... until you brought him food. Back in your highschool days you'd pay him with his favorite foods in favor of completing some project you forgotten about. While his tastes had changed a lot over the years, he gorged himself on everything you brought until he felt ill.

Theodore tears the lid of the cup and swallows the concoction, not stopping for a breath. Your hand flies to his back as he chokes. "Take it easy, Theo. Give me that."

You pry the cup from his hands as you sit beside him, weighting his palms against his lap until his shakes quiet. "It's going to be okay. You'll find someone when you're ready to look again and I'll always be here to support you."

You always have been. Years went when he forgot about his own birthday and it seemed like the entire world had to - and there you were, cake and a new book in hand. You were his rock through thick and thin; a vow he made with his ex. The guilty euphoria when people mistook you as his spouse instead of her. Beside what he did with his kids, Theodore had forgotten what it was like to enjoy another's company - reminded each time you came around. He couldn't make this about himself. He couldn't.

"The kids.... Erin's still so young. How am I going to tell them."

"Sometimes, a separated home is better than a dysfunction one. It won't be easy and they'll always come before anything, but right now you need to focus on yourself and what you want in life."

Your hands tighten around his. What does he want? He wants to go back to the night he took that cigarette from her. He wants to scream and hit his younger self for following her at that party. He wants to go back and stop the arrangement that kept his mind off the study partner that always came up with an excuse when it was time to hit the books, but there when he needed them most. He wants to tell them how they made him feel. He still does. He wants to love you - and now he finally.... finally can.

"Hold me.... Please, I just want...you to hold me."

His glasses fog up. You wipe the tears from behind his lenses as your arms envelope him. Eyes misty, all he feels is the pull of your warm embrace and he breaks. Theodore wraps the blanket around you and centers his hearing on the steady beat in your chest. It's the most beautiful thing in the world. If he has that to listen to every night, he won't need caffeine - or anything else for that matter. All he needed was you. All he ever needed was you.

[theaquamarinearchives]

[ the frontlines ― gepard ] "if only you saw things the way i see things, perhaps this situation would be different." cw. fluff, slightly hurt/comfort, childhood friends to lovers, gepard being naive and not noticing reader's crush, use of y/n, includes an argument // 2.6k words

aquamarine's findings. this was the first time i ever wrote for gepard !! this is a repost from my old blog since i'm moving all my works over onto this blog !!

the snow is less than comforting for the captain of the silvermane guards. GEPARD is no stranger to it though. he is undeniably used to the raw chill of the eternal freeze, his nose flushed a subtle hue of red to match his cheeks. snowflakes catch on his eyelashes and despite his attempts, his teeth still chatter when none of his subordinates are looking.

after all, it'd be awkward for them to see their captain struggling so nonchalantly with the cold, wouldn't it? as a landau, he couldn't bear to even consider the thought of being humiliated like that. he could handle the cold just fine, as long as he kept telling himself that then it'd be the only truth jarilo-vi would know.

except it wouldn't be the only truth. gepard knows that very well when his eyes meet yours over a cup of coffee at the goethe hotel in the administrative district. he's here on behalf of the supreme guardian doubling security for an event but he can't pass up a chance to see his childhood friend, no way.

you're not dumb - you most certainly have never been in his eyes - and you're one of his longest friends, hailing from another noble family in belobog. gepard faintly remembers you tinkering with mechanisms with his older sister as a young child and even more so the secret adventures you'd take lynx on while she was still a toddler - ones you thought nobody knew about. you were fairly convinced you'd been sneaky enough but at that age, lynx couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

you've drank in the way he reacts to the cold so much over the past years, it almost humours you that he's never truly adapted to it. you were born during this eternal freeze and it's all you've ever known but even underneath all his armour and layers, gepard hates it. he spends almost every waking second of his day in the cold, watching snowflakes dance through the air in an alluring dance that mesmerises him when he gets a five minute break from his duties.

"maybe i should buy you a scarf," you chide as you raise the steaming hot mug to your lips, sipping at the liquid that warms your body. gepard notes that your lips have always been soft despite the harsh cold, you've always taken care of them well, "there's enough skin showing on your neck to please a vampire."

gepard scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes as he leans back in the chair nonchalantly. his upper arms rest on the arms of the chair, one of his legs stretched out under the table as he finally relaxes a little; even if it's just for a moment. your presence has always had that effect on him. he's not the captain of the silvermane guards when he's with you - he's just gepard, that's all he'll ever be.

"vampires, really y/n?" the blond's lips pull into a tight line and you can't help but snicker at how serious the middle child of the landau family could be, "i don't need a scarf."

"sure thing, you wouldn't know until christmas..." the look that gepard is glaring in your direction makes your voice trail off, a light giggle escaping your lips as you raise your hands in a surrender, shaking your head. gepard sometimes wonders how the two of you bonded as children. you were much closer to his two sisters; serval would always steal you to show you what she'd been fiddling with when the two of you were tucked away, children's books seated on your laps and woven scarves wrapped around your necks - the very ones you'd been hinting at just now.

even as lynx grew older, you were commonly found red-handed trying to sneak out of belobog together. the two of you would grumble as serval and gepard pinched your ears, tugging you back to the landau family's manor as they scolded you - specifically you though, they were all too familiar with the concept that you was the mastermind behind the adventures.

gepard sometimes wishes he knew what pulled the two of you together like an invisible thread, some kind of magnetic reaction that neither of you could stop. despite the differences and lack of idea why the two of you were friends, you were inseparable; that was until gepard became the captain of the silvermane guards. now it seems that he's more devoted to the supreme guardian than he is to his own family's name.

you knew though. you knew the pull you felt as children was a dumb, silly crush that you never shook off. the sweet young blond toddler who would sit with you at school lunch, clasping his lunchbox with a toothy grin and who noticed you despite the things people whispered, that's exactly who you fell for. except you were almost a hundred percent certain you'd grow out of it.

you didn't.

in fact, it got worse.

and to make matters worse, no matter how much you'd tried to subtly hint to gepard that someone liked him, fawned over him even, he didn't take the hint at all. it was like talking to a brick wall, your words seemingly going into one ear and coming out the other as if his mind was hollow when it came to anything romantic - you were starting to think it was.

what you didn't realise was the seemingly naïve blond harboured feelings, ones he just didn't understand. he'd become a work devoted man - his every waking breath taken in honour of the supreme guardian, his every word uttered in the name of the landau family. gepard didn't have the time of day to ponder on emotions, at least not ones that would create obstacles in his pursuit of safety and peace within belobog's walls.

he was not only a brick wall for you but for himself and he didn't even notice it. you raise the hot mug to your lips again, your eyes trailing out of the nearby window to take in the way snowflakes waltz, their patterns unique and never once the same as the other. sometimes that's how it feels when you look at the souls of belobog. gepard's icy blue eyes follow your gaze even though he's tired of seeing the snow.

"when are you settling down, geppie?" your voice rings out into the awkward silence, harmonic and a gentle melody that gepard wishes would lull him to sleep when he's restless, his lithe body aching from the days spent in his armour like a statue in the harsh cold. he'll toss and turn, unable to rest when his mind tortures him with the thoughts of the guards under his command that he's lost in the past.

the silence is a killer, tearing you apart as you reconsider your sudden question. you was being nosey, you admit and you sounded a lot like a rich aunt wanting to know when he's having kids - this wasn't your intentions but you wanted to know where you stood with your childhood crush. it'd be better to know now rather than later, at least in your eyes.

"settling down isn't necessary y/n," he comments suddenly in response, clearing his throat awkwardly despite the hot flush in his cheeks that he blames on the geomarrow heating system inside the hotel, "i have work to focus on."

a sad smile crosses your face for a mere few seconds and it doesn't go unnoticed by gepard. he doesn't push it but he takes a moment to consider what could possibly have made you ask that question. while he ponders with no clear answer in sight, there's a realisation that hits like a freight train - gepard isn't ever going to give you even a prospect of a chance with him. it's harsh and sudden, clinging to your heart and tearing it apart. you cover up the pain with a sip of your drink, the very one going cold.

there couldn't be a way in the cosmos that gepard hadn't an idea about your crush; not after all these years that you'd be pining for him. the gifts you'd wrapped so neatly, tied with a ribbon bow - effort that you'd never put in for anyone else's gifts - that would end up in his gloved hands every christmas, birthday and numerous other special occasions; special occasions such as his promotion to captain of the silvermane guards.

you'd wrote a letter confession once in your neatest handwriting, presenting it to the maids of the landau family as they giggled unanimously at the shy front of you they'd finally witnessed. unfortunately for you, that time was a dud since in the hurry of the morning you'd wrote aforementioned letter, you'd failed to even sign it off with your name. gepard, in all of his blind sightedness, didn't even recognise your handwriting let alone mention the letter to you.

with a grimace - one that you're unsure if it came from the bitter, cold drink in your mug or the situation at hand, - you realise it's probably best to move on. it feels as if your heart is shattering, crumbling in your very hands as gepard raises his lukewarm mug to his lips, a faint grimace also crossing his face at the temperatures of your drinks now. you could still support gepard the way you are now, as the two kids that used to read children's books together. you'd just never be able to settle for more than that.

the air is thick as the two of you take the distaste for your drinks as a sign to leave, that the brief catch-up was over and the awkward air could fade out. yet gepard can't just leave you on the front steps of the goethe hotel, of course not. to make your breaking heart worse, he's determined to walk you back to your family home - which isn't far, mind you but you still spite him for being so hopeless with feelings.

"i'm being sent back to the frontlines soon," he mentions calmly as his eyelashes catch snowflakes and you're reminded of when you'd stick your tongues out to catch them as kids. you tear your gaze away from him but your brows furrow in concern, "the supreme guardian wants high defences around the fragmentum while it eases away."

"you shouldn't go," you mumble before you can even think about the repercussions of your words. gepard's eyes widen and he looks at you in confusion, "i mean - i'm just scared for you, geppie. it's dangerous out there. why can't you just stay inside the city walls?"

"it's my duty, y/n!" gepard exclaims, his brows knitted together as he pauses walking to turn to you. you'd never argued back against his work before, why did you suddenly care so much? "it's my duty... to abide to the supreme guardian, it always has been - you wouldn't understand-"

"no, maybe i don't but i love you and you don't seem to understand that either!" you blurt out angrily, your fists clenched as tears prick at your eyes. you could cover it as the cold but your emotions are written heavily on your face and gepard pauses, his chapped lips parted in shock as he takes a moment.

you go quiet, short breaths of air gasping from your lips as you try to calm down following the ordeal. you're hurt, torn by gepard's lack of ability to read that after all these years, you'd been the most loyal person to him while he'd been running off being that exact person to the supreme guardian. all you wanted was for him to notice that.

it's almost as if gepard's body and mind have to restart, blinking slowly as he stares at the way your eyes are glittering in the brief glimpse of sunlight peeking from behind dull clouds. his pulse is racing to the point where he can hear his heart beating in his ears, drowning out the idle chatter of people around them that don't seem to quite notice the situation between the children of the two noble families in belobog. gepard's stomach twists and turns and for a moment, he considers whether these are the butterflies that serval and lynx always spoke about with none other than you.

the blond can't bear to see the way tears are threatening to spill down your cheeks a moment longer yet he also can't appear to form the words needed to even remotely convey his feelings or comfort you. so instead, he follows his heart for once. his white gloved hands reach up, cupping your cold cheeks delicately before he presses his lips to yours, pulling you closer without a second thought.

the day that gepard returns to the frontlines arrives sooner than you'd expected. to cope with the absence of your now boyfriend - a term that still makes you giggle like a school kid when you utter it to anybody, - you'd taken to helping out at belobog's very own history and culture museum. you enjoyed it more than you could probably put into words, especially teaching the children small history lessons like you were doing currently.

the hall is bustling but the kids' faces light up with every detail you go over, wide grins on their faces. out of the corner of your eyes, during the middle of a sentence, you caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair approaching from across the hall. your heart speeds up, a hopeless smile on your face as you quickly return to what you was saying to the children.

a small smile etches onto gepard's face as he leans against a nearby wall, listening to your history lesson intently. you're fantastic with kids, always so expressive to help fuel their curiosities and growing excitement and he can't help but remember just how well you would handle lynx when she was just a small child. he folds his arms across his chest, admiring the way your eyes glitter in the warm lamps that light the museum up - a much better sight than the way your eyes glittered a few days ago.

your lesson is soon over, the kids hurriedly following pela as she takes over your next job the moment she catches sight of gepard so casually leaning in the museum with a hopelessly in love smile on his face - one he can't exactly hide anymore whenever he looks at you. you approach with a confused smile, a stack of information papers in your hands.

"aren't you supposed to be at the frontlines right now?" you ask softly, tilting your head as you stand before the tall blond man. gepard shrugs lightly, the most carefree you'd seen him for a long time. that grin on his face grows and it begins to rub off on you too.

"the frontlines can wait, lady bronya heard my reasoning and granted me permission to stay within belobog for a while longer," he muses, blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous look you'd lacked to see from him since you were children, "why? not happy to see me?"

you consider asking what the reasoning was that he'd presented to the supreme guardian, although you knew that bronya was a soft soul underneath that tough guise she settles in for the role of the supreme guardian. you shake the thought of questioning him from your mind, leaning forward to press your lips to his softly. the stack of papers in your hand reaches up to hide your faces during your intimate moment and gepard grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as if he couldn't survive without pulling you closer.

he may have been a few (many) years late but there wasn't a chance in the cosmos that he was going to let you go now - the frontlines could indeed wait.

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[thirdsaltyhunter]

Crawl Home to Her

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean thinks back on the times he died but found his way home to kiss you

Warning: mentions of death and dying, drinking, talk of alcoholism, cursing, kissing, angst, Dean self hate, takes place in season 10 so spoilers.

A/N: This is inspired by Work Song by Hozier and written in Dean's POV with lyrics acting as Dean's thoughts, lyrics in italics. NOT PROOFREAD ALL MISTAKES ARE MY OWN

Dean's POV

I don't want to get out of bed. I couldn't have woken up more than three minutes ago, but I'm so tired. Though that's been a pretty consistent occurrence for most of my life. I'd have a hard time remembering the last time I woke up feeling rested, and to make it worse, these past few months- few years, have been grueling. Hell, in the past few months I inherited the Mark of Cain, died and came back as a demon; I don't know how much more I can take. I want this to be over, but it's not, it's never over. The Mark still on my arm is a reminder of that. I'm glad I have Y/N, I don't think I could go through all of this alone. She's still with me even after everything. She makes it all worth it.

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

As if she could hear me thinking about her she emerged through our bedroom door with a smile that always seems to melt away my worries and two mugs of coffee in hand. That explains why she wasn't lying next to me when I woke up. I release the breath I've been unconsciously holding since waking to find her not beside me. "Good morning my love" she says softly, handing me one of the mugs and sitting next to me on the bed. "Mornin' sweetheart". She cups my face and kisses me, soft and sweet. I kiss her back, with a wanting for something I don't deserve.

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once front he cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be.

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

It's still hard believing that all this is real. I was supposed to be dead. I did die. Yet here I am, waking up another morning, another morning with her. I remember hearing her when I was fading from the stab wound. I heard her begging me to stay with her and it made me fight. Evidently I wasn't strong enough to win the initial struggle against death, but I made it out alive and came home to her. Despite how ugly the road back was.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

I think back to before we were together, back to when I came back after getting dragged to Hell. I wanted to shut everyone out, even her, and bury myself in a new grave of alcohol and guilt. Sam and Bobby had tried to get me to open up, tried to get me to talk about the literal Hell I had been through, Y/N never did. She somehow always knew when to push and when I needed to be left alone. So many nights I stayed awake, unable to sleep through the waves of guilt. Guilt over what I did in Hell, what I put Sam, Y/N and Bobby through, guilt for leaving them. My mind was so loud these nights, I drank until I blacked out. It was after one of these nights that I had woken up with a killer hangover in the bedroom that she usually slept in at Bobby's. Incomplete glimpses from the night before flashed through my head. Remembering how Y/N had found me in my drunken stupor and hauled me up from my seat at the kitchen table. How she managed to get me up the stairs and into bed by herself is beyond me, but I've learned over the years of knowing her, to not underestimate what she's capable of.

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

I had drug myself out of bed and wandered downstairs, unconsciously searching for her. I found her curled up asleep on the worn out sofa in the library. A new wave of guilt washed over me. I hadn't even pulled my head out of my ass long enough to ask her how she was, and now she had gone out of her way, given up her bed, so I could be comfortable. I didn't deserve her. That's why I kept my feelings for her to myself for so many years. I moved past her to the kitchen quietly, as to not wake her. I wanted to have a pot of coffee ready for her when she woke up, it was the least I could do. I was going to bring her a cup but she heard me moving around in the kitchen before the pot was even done brewing. "Hey" I saw her rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, her hair disheveled. My heart swelled at how cute I thought she was when she was like this, though I would never tell her that. Not only because I thought it might ruin our friendship, but also because she would probably stab me for calling her cute. "Hey" she responded, voice still thick with sleep. "You want a cup of coffee? ", I asked as I poured a cup for her, already knowing what her answer would be. "Please", she said with a tired smile. That morning over coffee I had told her some of what I went through in Hell, that I had broken and tortured souls. She listened, without judgment, without fear and without asking questions I didn't feel like answering at the moment. The fact the she didn't push me made me comfortable to tell her everything.

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I live

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

And now almost 6 years later, I'm still doing the same thing. I put her through all that again. I made a stupid decision that got me dead but I made it back, only to try and shut her out. But now that we're together I know she's not going to let me do that and I'm too tired and I love her too much to fight her, even though everything in me is telling me to stay away from her. I don't know how she can even look at me let alone still be with me. I tried to kill her and Sam when I was a demon and there's more terrible things I did that she doesn't even know about, though I'm pretty sure she knows and isn't telling me. After her and Sam cured me, I tried to keep her at arms distance, tried to tell her the list of reasons why she shouldn't want me anymore. How could anyone forgive me after everything I did. But she took me into her arms and kept telling me it wasn't really me, that her and Sam still love me and all that matters is that she has me back.

My baby never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord dont forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

She spent all of last night kissing away my pain. I want to take away her pain too. I set my coffee on the nightstand and reach over to take her cup too, setting it beside mine. "What'cha doin'" she looked confused until I turned back, grabbing her and pulling her to lay with me. "Fixing it", I whispered, knowing it wasn't an answer that made sense, but I was going to kiss her until it fixed her broken heart. I moved to hover over her and just looked at her, holding her face in my hands. Even in the low light of the early morning, she's still breathtakingly gorgeous. She pulls me down to kiss her and I get the feeling she knows what I'm trying to do. I pour everything I'm feeling into kissing her, how sorry I am for leaving her, for all the heartache it caused her. I don't think I'll ever erase from my mind, the sound of her crying as I was dying. The memory has me blinking back tears. I turn to hide my face in her neck and trail kisses along her shoulder. Her arms wrap around my back and I can't help but melt into her, breathing in the scent of her perfume. The weight is off my shoulders for once, I can breathe easier, and nothing matters outside of us.

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Heaven and Hell were words to me

It's moments like these that make me fight so hard. Fight to be better, do better. Fight for her and fight to stay with her. I roll over onto my back, pulling her with me to lay her head on my chest. "I promise that no matter what happens I'll alway find a way back to you". It was a promise I was making to myself as much as it was to her, and I intended to keep it.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

[thelostmagicians]

The Little Mermaid | Steve Harrington

Series Masterlitst 𓇼

Summary: Something lurks underneath Lover's Lake and Steve is determined to find out. [1.8k]

Fluff, comfort, angst

♡

“Steve, why don’t you just listen to me for a second. I’m telling you there was nothing there that night except for you, me, Nancy, Eddie, and the demo bats. Dustin or the other kids didn’t see anything either!” Robin pulled on Steve’s sleeve as he barrelled forward towards the lake. 

“You don’t understand Robs, I was underwater. There was a time frame where I should've been alone, but I wasn’t,” Steve paid her no mind as he glanced at the lake looking for any sign of life, only to be met with the silent stillness of the water. 

“You were alone for like 20 seconds, Nancy went in after you first, then me and then Eddie.”

Steve sighed squatting down on a nearby rock, “But in those twenty seconds, there was someone else. I remember a voice, she kept shouting leave and… there was this second where I thought I was going to die. The bat was strangling me and I couldn’t breathe, I could literally feel my pulse slowing down until this hand reached out and ripped the tail to shreds.”

“It wasn’t a hand, Nancy broke the tail off with an oar.”

“That was the second time,” Steve simply stated.

Robin’s eyes widened in shock, “You were choked twice?”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, I guess it’s all been coming back to me now that everything’s settled and I actually have time to think you know? There was a girl and she saved my life. I have dreams - nightmares that she’s there calling out for me, but I can never get to her.”

“Maybe it’s a trauma response, like PTSD. Or some sort of metaphor. We all went through a lot and now it's finally sinking in…we're all dealing with it differently.”

Steve huffed, “I guess you’re right, maybe I do need to see that shrink Will suggested.” He followed Robin back to his car, but kept glancing back hoping to see something, anything, to confirm his suspicions, but he was met with disappointment instead. 

As soon as Steve drove away, the once still lake came to life, two curious eyes peeking out of the water slowly moving behind the large rock. But the eyes vanished just as fast as they appeared leaving the lake still once again.

_

Steve dreaded going to sleep nowadays. Instead of a peaceful 8 hours, he always woke up feeling restless and scared. He knows that everyone had nightmares even the strongest like Hopper and Joyce, but everyone had someone. Steve had to face his nightmares alone, with no one to hold him or comfort him through the fear. He sometimes slept over at the Byers’ or Dustin’s, but he always felt like a burden when someone had to wake him up in the middle of his fits. 

Tonight was no different, he tried to stay awake, even drank an extra cup of coffee but his body succumbed to the tiredness. 

As soon as his eyes closed he was transported back to that night at the lake. He felt his throat closing up as the demo bat’s tail squeezed harder and harder. He tried to make himself wake up, tried to remind himself that this was just a memory but his unconscious mind wouldn’t allow it. His life was slipping away and his eyes were slowly closing until he saw a flash of purples and greens. An animal of some sort with a thick tail that glimmered in the deep lake. He saw the shiny tail slam into the bat forcing it to loosen its grip around Steve. He tried to reach out and grab the bat by its wings but then two hands came to his rescue and ripped the rest of the bat tail from his neck. He swam up and was finally able to see what saved him. 

It was a girl. Well, a girl with a tail. She had the upper body and face of a human, but just below her bellybutton were scales, scales that led to a tail. A gorgeous tail reflecting shades of purples and greens. She was there fighting for him, for his life. He started swimming towards her, but was stopped by another bat taking a hold of his neck, again. He flailed around trying to get her attention, but she disappeared as soon as a splash was heard from above. This time when he opened his eyes he saw Nancy followed by Robin and Eddie fighting off the bats. 

Steve woke with a startled gasp, hands going up to his neck to make sure nothing was there. His fingers found the faint scars as he rubbed it in an effort to remind himself it was all in the past. This nightmare had felt especially real, more like a memory and while he feared the real memories the most, he was grateful for finally being able to see his hero. The girl with a tail. 

_

The next morning Steve eagerly rushed to work. 

“Woah, not only are you on time, but you’re 30 min early. Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” Robin quirked her eyebrow teasingly.

Steve huffed, trying to get his arms through his vest. “It was a girl, Rob. That night a girl saved me.”

Robin shook her head, “Steve you’re telling me that a girl jumped in after you. There was no one on the lake, but us. We would’ve seen her if she was there.”

“You’re right. There was no one on the lake, she was in it.”

“So you’re saying that she just magically appeared in the lake and was able to hold her breath and fight off bats with you. Well why didn’t she help us afterwards?”

“She wasn’t a regular girl though, she had a tail. And she could breathe underwater. It’s like she had the abilities of a sea animal, but she was also part human,” Steve explained patiently.

Robin rested her head in her hands tired of Steve’s antics, “Please not another supernatural creature. I honestly think you’re starting to get hallucinations because this can’t be real. I’m going to call Dustin, cause you’re really starting to worry me, Steve.” 

Steve sighed trying to explain his vision as Robin dialed for Dustin. 20 min later Dustin showed up with a stack of library books overflowing from his backpack. 

Dustin pulled out a book flipping to the page that displayed a terrifying monster with sharp teeth and mean eyes. “So what you’re describing is either a Siren or a Mermaid. Both creatures that don’t exist.”

“Isn’t most of the ocean undiscovered anyway? So there’s technically no proof that these creatures don’t exist,” Steve defended. 

“Well, because this isn’t an ocean, it’s a lake. These types of creatures are usually in the deep sea,” Dustin argued.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re buying into this,” Robin exclaimed, pointing at Dustin. 

Steve groaned, “How can you guys see everything we’ve seen, fight monsters, be friends with a literal superhero, and not believe in sea creatures? Look, I know what I saw. I know I sound insane, but most of our life is insane. If anyone would believe me I thought it would be you guys.”

Robin rubbed his back comfortingly, nodding at Dustin, “Alright Dustin, tell us what you know.”

“Okay so, Sirens are usually described as beautiful creatures that had alluring voices. Sometimes with a bird’s head or a human head and a fish’s tail. According to Greek mythology Sirens used to lure sailors to their rock island where they then would kill them…”

“This wasn’t a siren,” Steve cut Dustin off, “This girl had a fishtail, sure but she had a face and the upper body of a human. And she wouldn’t have saved me, just to lure me away and kill me.”

Dustin nodded, “Then I think you’ve found a Mermaid, Steve. Mermaids are known for their voices too, but it says that they are part human and part fish, sometimes having magical powers. They are known for protecting the waters and the creatures in it.”

Steve nodded, satisfied with the theory. 

“So now, that you know all this and know what-or-who saved you… Are we done talking about this now, can we forget it and move on?” Robin asked.

“No, this is just a theory, I have to see her, thank her. There’s something going on and I don’t know, I feel a pull towards her, Robin. I don’t think I’ll be at peace until I actually meet her. It’s like she’s meant to be in my life.”

Robin laughed nervously, “Please tell me we aren’t going after another supernatural thing. I don’t think I can take it, I’m still recovering from the last time.”

“Yeah, and how are you even going to meet her? You’re too traumatized to even get in the pool with us Steve. Everyone noticed Mr. Swimteam Captain staying on the sidelines at his own pool party,” Dustin pointed out. 

Steve looked down dejectedly, “Guys, I get it, but I need to do this. If I ever want to sleep peacefully again, I have to do this. I won’t ask you guys to get involved, but I need your support.”

_

Steve was on edge the rest of the shift. He was eager to leave and do some of his own investigating. The only thing stopping him, like Dustin said, was his newfound fear of water. Ever since he got pulled under and almost died, he hasn’t even been able to take a relaxing bath, let alone go in a pool. He connected everything back to the water. Barb dying in his pool, him almost dying, Eddie almost dying, the gate being opened underwater. If he wanted to meet this mermaid then he was going to have to get over his fear of the water. 

Steve swerved to the right, taking the turn to Lover’s Lake before he missed it. He had to go in the lake tonight, before he lost his small boost of confidence. He parked his car and jogged over, taking off his sweater and vest. 

“Every night I go to sleep and I dream of you, and I’m on the verge of losing my goddamn mind because I don’t know what’s real and what’s not,” Steve sighs, “so either you show me you exist or I come in there to see for myself.”

He looked at the water, the darkness of it reminding him of what could be lurking underneath. His throat started closing up as he dipped a toe and just as he was having second thoughts, he lost his balance slipping in. His mind knew what was happening, but his body was too slow. Before he had time to prepare himself, he fell in head first, fighting for his life against the water once again.

[chairofchaos]

Coffee & Psychotherapy: Something New

Pairing: Eris x Azriel (AZRIS IS BACK IN TOWN, BABYYYY) Summary: In which Azriel encourages Eris to see a mind healer, and they start the healing journey together. This, of course, requires copious amounts of coffee, and possibly some new thing called “hot chocolate”. For Day 3 of Eris Week: Healing @erisweekofficial Rating: Teen Word Count: 2.6k Tags & Warnings: domestic fluff, tiny, tiny, tiny bit of angst, because our ken dolls are traumatized, but it is sweet and soft and gentle, like so many other things in my repertoire (kidding lmao), coffee and hot chocolate should be listed as tertiary characters. OH and TW for mention of Beron (sorry)

Read it on Ao3 HERE! (or below the cut <3)

A/N: Happy Day 3 of Eris Week! Thank you to @tsunami-of-tears for the gorgeous dividers! Shoutout to @dusk-muse who I may have forced to request some idea for fluff. Kudos to @ninthcircleofprythian for her help reminding me of this coffee post (HERE), which loosely inspired this fic in that most of the ACOTAR characters would greatly benefit from some therapy.

That being said, I am not qualified to write actual therapy things, so there will be no actual therapy session content. There are passing mentions of what was discussed in a session, but it’s like 3 lines total. This is centered around domesticity and love. <3

Eris loved coffee. He loved the simplicity of buying the roast beans from the shop, the sound of the grindstones, the scent of freshly ground coffee beans. When he and Azriel had first met, they drank coffee each morning. Eris drank it black. And Azriel, without fail, filled his cup with enough sugar and cream that even Eris’ mother had noticed it with some concern.

Azriel hated coffee. But he liked what coffee could do for him. He was never without a mug, so much so that Eris kept buying him mugs of different shapes and sizes, different spellwork to keep his coffee warm, to make all coffee added to it sweet, to refill automatically. Eris liked coffee. Azriel just liked feeling awake.

Because Azriel was a horrible sleeper. Terrible. Eris didn’t know what to blame - court of origin, childhood trauma, his former line of work, his shadows whispering to him constantly. All were contenders for the crown of keeping the former spymaster awake at all hours of the night.

Eris was no saint, either. Cauldron knew he kept his mate up some nights. But the Cauldron also knew Azriel would get out of bed in the middle of the night and take off into flight, not returning until he knew Eris would also be awake. After the first time, they would rarely talk about where Azriel went or what he did. Instead, Eris would press a mug of overly sweet coffee into his hands and they would sit together in silence on the front porch, Azriel’s head on Eris’ shoulder and their hands clasped together.

Despite the way the habit had begun, Eris treasured those moments with his mate. Watching the sunrise radiate through the autumn clouds, it was easier to forget the foundational pain which motivated them in this tradition.

This morning was different. Eris woke to find Azriel’s side of their bed cool, the blankets rumpled as if his mate had spent half the night fidgeting restlessly until he simply gave up. The sun wasn’t up yet, so he got up, yawning as he flicked a hand at the fireplace. Reinvigorated, the coals flickered back to flames, Eris’ power breathing new life into them. He would drag Azriel back to bed if he could, and the cozier the room was, the more likely Azriel would be to let him when they were done watching the sun rise.

The hallways were dark, but the kitchen lamps were lit. Eris blinked sleepily at them, yawning once more as he stepped into the kitchen. 

Azriel stood there, hands on the edge of the sink as he stared out the broad window. His shadows swirled lazily across the expanse of his back, their dark cloak about him in a guarded comfort.  “Good morning.”

This was new. “Good morning, Az.” Eris paused, but Azriel didn’t move. “Are you alright?”

Azriel nodded, reaching to pick up his mug. “Just drinking my coffee.” One shadow twined around his leg, then darted to Eris and nestled behind his ear. ‘Upset,’ it whispered. Eris nodded. Clearly, he thought. But he wouldn’t say that to the shadow which only wished its master well.

It was rare the shadows deigned to speak to him. He wasn’t entirely sure how it happened in the first place, though he suspected it had something to do with the piece of his soul that was Azriel’s, and the piece of Azriel’s that was his. Whatever limited power it granted him, he was thankful for the insights of the shadows into his mate’s moods, whenever they chose to share.

“Az,” he began as the shadow spun back towards Azriel. 

“I made coffee,” Azriel interjected. “It’s in the kettle.” 

Eris nodded, crossing the room. “Thank you.”

They were silent for a moment. Eris poured his coffee, then crossed to stand beside his mate.

“What’s wrong?”

Azriel gave a wry smile, nudging Eris with his wing. “Couldn’t sleep. Too many memories, I suppose.”

“You’re drinking your coffee black,” Eris observed, taking a sip of his own. “That’s unlike you.”

“And you are observant, as always.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Azriel shook his head. “No. Not now. I had something I wanted to tell you, though.”

“Alright.”

“I’m going to see a mind healer tomorrow morning.”

Eris smiled. “Okay.”

Azriel looked at him, turning to lean against the counter. He paused a second, looking pensive. “I want you to come with me. I checked your schedule, you’re available. I know it’s last minute, but I want to talk about something, and I’d like to do it there.”

Eris nodded slowly. His mate wasn’t one to do things half-heartedly. “Can you tell me what it’s about? It might help me to be a little prepared.”

“I want to talk about you.”

“What, specifically?”

Azriel shrugged, scooping his mug up in his left hand and cradling it against his chest. “I’ve been seeing the mind healer for a couple of months. It’s been my meeting every week, the recurring block on my calendar that’s marked as ‘busy’. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, I don’t think, but I want to. And I want you there, if you are willing.”

“I am willing. What do you want to talk about?”

“I think you should see someone.”

“Someone.”

“A mind healer. Not mine, probably, but someone.” Azriel sighed, looking over his shoulder at the trees ruffling in the breeze. “You internalize the way I do, and I think you might find it helpful.”

Eris nodded. “I’ll go tomorrow. But I can’t promise anything.”

Azriel smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

“What did you think?”

The remains of dinner were spread in front of them; the pumpkin ravioli Eris loved, a pitcher of apple cider which would probably get mixed with some bourbon later that night. Azriel took a bite of the spiced cake. It was one of his favorites, Eris knew. No wonder the cook had been so amused when he made the request. The pumpkin ravioli was time consuming, and Eris never requested it except on special occasions, which meant Azriel had made the request for him. Perhaps it was an effort to soften this very conversation.

“I think it was good,” Eris shrugged. “It wasn’t what I expected.”

“Is there anything we talked about you wanted to come back to?” Azriel set his fork and knife down, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t want to go to bed with things unsaid.”

Eris smiled. “Thoughtful. No, not really. Why were you drinking your coffee black yesterday?”

Azriel chuckled. “I was wondering if you would come back to that.”

“Do you blame me? You hate drinking it black.”

“I know. I wanted to try it again.”

“For any particular reason? Or just because?”

“Just because.”

“Did you like it?”

Azriel laughed. “No. I still hated it.”

Eris smiled. “I’m not surprised.”

Azriel was right. It was helpful, the sessions with the mind healer. Eris hadn’t expected to feel as challenged or as supported, but he was both. He could discuss anything. Though they often touched on the day to day stress he experienced as High Lord, they just as easily discussed his childhood, his family, and the horrors of war. 

He enjoyed the walk there and back. He had winnowed, at first. He had been concerned about being seen at the building, preferring the anonymity winnowing straight into the office could provide him with. Over time, he found it peaceful to walk, whether it rained or the sun was on his face as he came and went. His route took him through some small roads in the city, roads he knew but wouldn’t have regularly walked had it not been for the small healing office on Maple Street. It gave him time to think, and every other week, he walked by the market set up along the street adjacent. 

The area held mostly offices, service-oriented businesses with at least a few employees each, and the market benefitted. They rotated through the city, ten different locations for two weeks worth of opportunities for sales. 

The shops participating rotated on occasion, so Eris always made a point of engaging with them, occasionally stopping on his way home to buy lunch or something to send to his nieces and nephews in Day and Night. Today, it had been raining, and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate wafted on the foggy breeze as he passed through, an umbrella in his hand. The less he used his powers in public, the more unnoticed he would go.

“May I interest you in a hot chocolate?” a merchant called to him from under his canopy. “Favorite of the Winter Court, and it’ll warm you on a day like today!”

Hot chocolate. “I’ll take one,” he smiled. The merchant smiled in return. “Certainly. Would you like coffee extract? It will give you the wakefulness of coffee without the flavor, or I can give you a coffee hot chocolate mix for the same effect.”

“I’ll take one with no coffee, please.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Eris stifled a laugh. He was unable to be anonymous, even dressed as simply as he was in a blue buttoned shirt and trousers.

When the merchant handed him the mug, she said, “The mug is spelled to return, unless you wish to buy it. My children make them– they own the pottery studio on the eastern side of North Village.”

“I have plenty of mugs at this point, unless my hounds decide they want to break them again,” Eris explained. “I appreciate it, though. If you have a moment, may I ask you a question about the coffee extract?”

The merchant nodded. 

“Does it provide all the same effects as coffee? I know someone who drinks coffee like water, but hates the flavor.”

“This may be good for them, then. It can be mixed in any drink to the same effect, though of course we mostly put it in hot chocolate.”

“You wouldn’t happen to sell the extract, would you?”

The merchant shook her head. “I don’t have enough at this point to be able to do that.” She paused, then added. “I could maybe sell you a bit for a trial, and then if you liked it, I could provide a supply as an importer. It may be expensive.”

Eris waved a hand. “That’s no matter. May I add a hot chocolate with the extract, please? I’ll have him try it today, and then I can let you know.”

She nodded. “Give me one moment to make it for you.”

Eris watched as she scooped a tan powder into a mug. If Azriel liked it, his sugar consumption would decrease considerably. Plus, he would likely enjoy the drink. He liked chocolate more than most people Eris knew, save perhaps Nesta and Gwyn. And Azriel wouldn’t have to drink coffee. The merchant added the hot chocolate, stirred for a few seconds, and then set the mug on the table. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” Eris handed over a few coins. He took her contact information, making a mental note to contact her before the end of the week. She sent him off with a smile and a wave, his umbrella tucked carefully between his wrist and his body to keep it in place as he walked with his hands full.

He walked in silence, only pausing to greet the occasional passersby, until a small wisp of a shadow darted out of the sky and wrapped itself around his wrist. “Is everything alright?” The shadow darted away again, quick as it had come. Was Azriel alright?

Eris heard him before he saw him, the loud flap of wings announcing his descent. When Azriel landed next to him, his hair plastered to his forehead, Eris grinned. “Hi.”

“Are you alright? You’re usually home by now.”

“I’m fine,” Eris said, extending the mug which held the concoction. “For you. Walk with me?”

“What’s this?” Azriel quirked an eyebrow, but took the mug all the same.

“Hot chocolate, she said. With a coffee extract that apparently has no flavor, but gives you the same benefits of wakefulness.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“I hoped you’d say that.”

They set off, Azriel tucking Eris close and replacing the umbrella with his wing. “How was your session?” 

“It was good,” Eris sighed. “A bit of discussion about Father.”

“Ah. Feeling alright?”

Eris nodded. “Tired, but fine.”

“Maybe it’s a good day to cancel the rest of your meetings?” Azriel suggested slyly, nudging his shoulder. “Seeing as it’s so dreary. We can spend the rest of the day together.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working with the guard this afternoon?”

“Cobblestones get too slippery,” Azriel protested. “I wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings when they slip and fall.”

Eris snorted. The Autumn Guard was more than used to rain, and trained on those cobblestones every single day. They had learned how not to fall.

“And this isn’t at all an excuse to spend the afternoon together?”

Azriel grinned, pressing a kiss to Eris’ temple. “It’s a good excuse.”

“Uh huh,” Eris laughed, pausing their strides with a grin and a hand on Azriel’s arm. “Convince me.”

It wasn’t a challenge as much as a tactic to get Azriel to kiss him. Their first date, they had both been guarded, despite their admissions the previous week that they had been dancing around each other for far too long to ignore the ongoing attraction. “Go on another date with me,” Eris had asked at the end of the night. Azriel had smirked, then said, “Convince me.”

Eris had taken the opportunity to kiss him. Ever since, they’d used the challenge as an invitation.

“Happily,” Azriel grinned, sliding an arm around Eris’ shoulders. He kissed him deeply, cradling Eris’ head in his arm. Eris sank into him, the exhaustion of a session with the mind healers hitting him full blast. “Consider me convinced,” he murmured, laughing against Azriel’s lips.

Azriel pulled back, grinning. “Good. Especially since I already canceled your meeting with Lord Merton.”

Eris snorted. “Of course you did.”

“Do you blame me? You know, my mate buys me delicious drinks. I do love this, by the way.” Eris amended the mental note to write to the merchant immediately. “And he kisses me in the rain like he’s drowning and needs me like air. Not to mention, he hasn’t taken as much as half a day off since Solstice two months ago.”

“Alright, alright,” Eris laughed, pressing a kiss to Azriel’s temple. “Let’s take the afternoon off. Maybe today calls for just sitting by a fire.”

Azriel grinned, leaning in for another kiss. It was sweet, and soft, and Eris found himself humming his satisfaction against his mate’s lips. 

“Agreed,” Azriel grinned. “Maybe in bed. Warm blankets await.”

They resumed their walk, sipping their respective drinks. When Eris finished his, the mug disappeared in silence, and he slipped his hand into Azriel’s.

“Az?” Azriel hummed in response. “Do you think we’ll ever be done with the mind healers? There’s so much to sort through. I wonder if we’ll ever get through it all.”

“I don’t know. I think it’s hard to say. It doesn’t have to end, which is a good thing. And maybe, if we feel good for a while, we take a break, and we go back.”

“Do you ever worry it will feel like a failure?”

“Do you think it’s a failure if you need help again?”

Eris shrugged. “Maybe.”

Azriel nodded. “You could talk about that next week, if you think it will help you. And maybe we can talk about that at our next combined session.”

“We should do that again. It’s been a while.”

“Alright. Let’s get it on the calendar. Any chance we could make it a date, too? I’d love to get some more of this hot chocolate.”

Eris smiled, resting his head on Azriel’s shoulder. “It’s a date.”

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